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THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 
UNIVERSITY  OF 
NORTH  CAROLINA 


ENDOWED  BY  THE 
DIALECTIC  AND  PHILANTHROPIC 
SOCIETIES 


AGIOS 

.ThU 

1833 


00045667651 


This  book  is  due  at  the  LOUIS  R.  WILSON  LIBRARY  on  the 
last  date  stamped  under  "Date  Due."  If  not  on  hold  it  may  be 
renewed  by  bringing  it  to  the  library. 


DATE  nr-r 

DUE  RET 

DATE 

DUE  RET- 



Form  No,  513 

THE 

YOUNG  MAN'S 

BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE, 

CONTAINING 

A  FAMILIAR  VIEW  OF  THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  RELIGION,  THE 
WORKS  OF  NATURE,  LOGIC,  ELOQUENCE,  THE  PASSIONS, 
MATTER    AND    MOTION,    MAGNETISM,  MECHANICAL 
POWERS,  HYDROSTATICS,  HYDRAULICS,  OPTICS, 
ACOUSTICS,  ELECTRICITY,  GALVANISM,  GEO- 
METRY",   GEOGRAPHY,  ASTRONOMY, 
HISTORY,  CHRONOLOGY,  ETC. 


.-rvy 

i 


BY  THOMAS  TEGG, 

EDITOR  OF  **  THE  CHRONOLOGY,  OR  HISTORIAN'S  COMPANION." 


FIFTH  AMERICAN,  ENLARGED  AND  IMPROVED  FROM  THE  LATEST  LONDON 

EDITION. 


TO  WHICH  IS  ADDED,  AN 

EPITOME  OF  AMERICAN  HISTORY, 

AND 

APPROPRIATE  REFLECTIONS  ON  THE  PROSPERITY,  INFLUENCEi 
AND  IMPORTANCE  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES. 


"  Knowledge  is  Power. Bacon. 


NE  W-YORK : 
PUBLISHED  BY  E.  KEARNY, 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2014 


https://archive.org/details/youngmansbookofkOOtegg 


PREFACE. 


From  the  established  reputation  of  "  The 
Young  Man's  Book  of  Knowledge,"  in 
England, — a  reputation  well  deserved,  from 
its  excellent  arrangement  and  popular  style, 
the  American  Publisher  cherishes  the  hope 
that  it  will  receive  a  corresponding  patron- 
age in  the  United  States.  To  exalt  the 
mind  by  contemplations  on  the  beautiful  and 
harmonious  works  of  nature,  and  to  give  just 
impressions  of  the  wisdom,  power,  and  infi- 
nite love  of  God,  are  the  leading  views  of  this 
work.  Much  pleasing  instruction  will  be 
found  in  every  page,  and  that,  too,  of  a  ten- 
dency to  be  highly  useful  and  valuable  to 
every  Young  Man.  The  Arts  and  Sciences 
are  elucidated  in  a  clear  and  perspicuous 
manner,  and  the  road  to  the  Temple  of 
Knowledge  rendered  easy  and  attractive. 

A  wide  field  for  profitable  meditation  is 
here  presented  to  the  diligent  student.  The 
"  ample  page"  of  Knowledge,  "  rich  with  the 
spoils  of  time,"  is  here  unrolled  to  the  inves- 
tigation of  the  sober,  the  discreet,  and  the 
persevering  disciples  of  wisdom.  Here  will 
be  found  incentives  to  benevolent  actions — 
motives  to  value  and  improve  the  moments 
as  they  fly,  and  reflections  suited  to  that 


iv 


PREFACE* 


great  day,  when  every  man  shall  be  judged 
according  to  the  light  shed  upon  him  in  this 
state  of  probation. 

The  following  judicious  observations  by 
the  celebrated  Locke,  are  worthy  of  the  most 
attentive  consideration  : — 

"  Reading  furnishes  the  mind  only  with 
materials  of  knowledge,  it  is  thinking  makes 
what  we  read  ours.  We  are  of  the  rumina- 
ting kind,  and  it  is  not  enough  to  cram  our- 
selves with  a  great  load  of  collections  ;  unless 
we  chew  them  over  again,  they  will  not  give 
us  strength  and  nourishment.  There  are 
indeed  in  some  writers  visible  instances  of 
deep  thought,  close  and  acute  reasoning,  and 
ideas  well  pursued.  The  light  these  would 
give,  would  be  of  great  use,  if  their  readers 
would  observe  and  imitate  them  ;  all  the  rest 
at  best  are  but  particulars  fit  to  be  turned 
into  knowledge ;  but  that  can  be  done  only 
by  our  own  meditation,  and  examining  the 
reach,  force,  and  coherence  of  what  is  said  ; 
and  then  as  far  as  we  apprehend  and  see  the 
connection  of  ideas,  so  far  it  is  ours  ;  without 
that  it  is  but  so  much  loose  matter  floating  in 
our  brain.  The  memory  may  be  stored,  but 
the  judgment  is  little  better,  and  the  stock  of 
knowledge  not  increased  by  being  able  to 
repeat  what  others  have  said,  or  produce  the 
arguments  we  have  found  in  them." 

To  borrow  the  vigorous  and  sublime  lan- 
guage of  the  Editor  of  this  inestimable  Trea- 
tise :-— "  The  curiosity  of  man  may  be  grati- 


PREFACE. 


fied  by  surveying  the  productions  of  nature ; 
the  farther  he  extends  his  researches,  the 
more  reason  he  will  find  to  admire  the  gene- 
ral economy  of  created  beings.  Whatever 
objects  his  eyes  behold,  whether  small  or 
great,  he  will  see  design  and  order  impressed 
upon  them,  in  the  most  conspicuous  charac 
ters.  The  stars  scattered  over  the  blue  vault 
of  heaven,  and  so  numerous  as  to  baffle  cal- 
culation, whether  they  shine  only  to  afford  us 
light,  or  are  the  suns  of  other  systems,  and 
thus  proclaim  the  extent  of  Almighty  power, 
cannot  fail  to  strike  us  with  astonishment. 
The  blazing  comets,  which  were  the  dire 
prognostics,  in  the  opinion  of  our  ancestors, 
of  the  fall  of  kings,  and  the  subversion  of 
empires,  we  are  taught  by  the  improvements 
of  philosophy  to  contemplate  with  admiration, 
devoid  of  terror ;  and  to  consider  as  the 
abodes  of  creatures  endowed  with  various 
powers  and  faculties.  The  earth  performing 
her  annual  and  diurnal  circuit  around  the 
centre  of  the  system,  so  as  to  produce  a  re- 
gular change  of  seasons,  and  a  succession  of 
light  and  darkness  ;  the  ocean  giving  to  man- 
kind the  constant  advantage  of  its  tides  ;  and 
although  frequently  tempestuous,  and  some- 
times threatening  to  mix  its  waves  with  the 
clouds,  and  to  overflow  the  earth,  yet  obey- 
ing the  invariable  laws  of  its  flux  and  reflux, 
and  never  advancing  beyond  its  prescribed 
bounds  : — the  air,  which,  from  its  partial 
pressure,  would  crush  us  to  the  ground,  but 
1* 


vi 


PREFACE* 


by  the  elasticity  of  its  internal  resistance 
forming  an  exact  counterbalance,  clearly  de- 
monstrate the  power,  the  wisdom,  and  the 
benignity  of  an  omnipotent  Creator.  Time 
and  space,  substance  and  heat,  are  the  vast 
materials  of  nature  ;  the  wide  universe  is  the 
sphere  in  which  they  act ;  and  life,  activity, 
and  happiness,  constitute  the  end  of  their 
operations.  The  whole  race  of  animals  pre- 
served to  the  present  time  in  the  same  flou- 
rishing state  in  which  they  were  at  first  crea- 
ted ;  the  impulse  of  instinct  directing  them 
to  wholesome  food,  to  commodious  habita- 
tions, and  to  the  propagation  of  their  kind  ; 
the  structure  of  their  frames  suitable  to  their 
immediate  use ;  the  several  tribes  of  crea- 
tures subordinate  to  each  other,  conducive  in 
various  respects  to  the  good  of  man ;  and 
the  abundant  provision  made  for  their  subsis- 
tence, are  all  evident  and  incontestible  proofs 
of  divine  skill,  contrivance,  and  power." 

In  the  advertisement  to  the  twentieth  Lon- 
don edition  of  this  work,  Mr.  Tegg,  the  in- 
telligent author,  modestly  remarks,  "  the  pri- 
mary design  of  this  volume  being  the  exten- 
sion of  useful  knowledge,  no  labour  has  been 
spared  to  compress  into  a  small  compass, 
materials  gleaned  from  a  vast  variety  of 
sources,  and  scattered  through  a  number  of 
volumes  too  extensive  for  the  general  and 
unlearned  reader  to  attempt  to  peruse.  The 
Editor  has  endeavoured  also  to  arrange  those 
materials  in  such  a  way  as  might  be  the  most 


PREFACE* 


vii 


pleasing  and  attractive.  The  principles  of 
each  science,  he  likewise^flatters  himself,  are 
laid  down  with  a  simplicity  that  will  require 
no  previous  knowledge  in  the  student,  nor 
render  their  acquisition  tiresome,  by  an  ab- 
stract and  dry  detail." 

It  is,  perhaps,  unnecessary  for  the  Publisher 
to  dwell  longer  on  the  merits  of  this  volume. 
The  judicious  reader  will  readily  perceive  its 
claims  on  the  community  as  a  work  fraught 
with  information,  and  as  being  well  calculated 
to  subserve  the  great  cause  of  Education  and 
Public  Virtue. 


THE  AMERICAN  PUBLISHER. 


INDEX. 


CHAPTER  I 
Importance  of  Religion  13 


CHAPTER  It 

WORKS  OF  NATURE  20 

Of  the  Air  and  Atmosphere             *  -         »  22 

Of  the  Meteors  29 

Of  Springs,  Rivers,  and  the  Sea  38 

American  Rivers  42 

Of  Earths,  Stones,  Metals,  Minerals,  and  other  Fossils  46 

Of  Vegetables  or  Plants        -         -  -  63 

Of  Animals      -                -         .  -         •  73 

Of  the  Human  Frame  89 


CHAPTER  III. 

LOGIC     -    101 

Of  Simple  Apprehension,  or  Perception        •         •  107 

Judgment       -         -         -         .         -         •  112 

Reasoning      -         -         -         •         •  117 

Method   119 


CHAPTER  IV. 

ELOQUENCE 

The  Sources  of  Argument     •  123 

The  different  Kinds  of  Style  124 

The  Ornaments  of  a  Composition  ...  127 
The  Arrangement  of  the  Different  Parts  of  a  Composition  131 

Propriety  of  Delivery  and  Action  -         -  132 


CHAPTER  V, 


THE  PASSIONS  139 

Origin  of  the  Passions  and  Affections  -        •  140 

Classiacmtion  of  the  Passions  and  Auction*  •         •  143 


CHAPTER  VI. 
NATURAL  AND  EXPERIMENTAL  PHILOSOPHY  147 


Of  Elements,  or  the  First  Principles  of  Bodies           -  150 

Of  Matter,  and  its  Properties            -         -         -  156 

Of  Attraction           .....  159 

Of  Magnetism          .....  163 

On  Fire  and  its  Properties     ....  166 

Of  the  Laws  of  Motion         ....  171 

Of  the  Mechanic  Powers        ....  177 

Of  Hydrostatics         .....  180 

Of  Hydraulics   184 

Optics           ......  187 

Acoustics       -         -         -         •  -191 

Of  Electricity  -   194 

Of  Galvanism   199 


CHAPTER  Vtt 

GEOMETRY   203 

Definitions                                   -         -         -  206 

Of  Lines        -  207 

Of  Angles   208 

Definition  of  Superficies         -  !<i09 

Of  Rectilinear  Superficies  or  Figures — Of  Triangles  -  210 

Of  Figures  of  Four  Sides        ....  212 

Of  Mixed  Figures— Of  Regular  and  Irregular  Figures  2 1 2 

Axioms         -         -         -         -                  -  214 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

GEOGRAPHY  AND  ASTRONOMY         -        -  215 
To  rectify  the  globe,  in  order  to  find  the  true  situation  of 

anyplace  -----  220 


To  find  the  longitude  and  latitude  of  a  given  place — To 
find  what  places  are  under  the  same  meridian  with 
the  given  place — To  find  what  places  have  the  same 
latitude — To  find  the  sun's  place  in  the  ecliptic  at 
any  time  of  the  year — To  know  the  length  of  the 
days  at  any  time,  and  at  any  place  -         -  221 

To  find  those  places  on  the  globe  where  the  sun  is  in  the 
meridian  at  any  time — To  find  where  the  sun  is 
vertical  at  any  time  of  the  year— To  find  where  the 
sun  is  above  the  horizon,  or  shines  without  setting 
all  the  24  hours,  in  the  northern  hemisphere  -  222 
To  find  the  length  of  the  longest  and  shortest  days  and 
nights  at  any  place  in  the  northern  hemisphere — To 
find  in  what  place  the  sun  is  rising  or  setting,  or  in 


INDEX. 


Us  meridian ;  or  what  parts  of  the  earth  are  enlight- 
ened at  any  particular  time         ...  223 

To  find  the  distance  of  one  place  from  another  upon  the 
globe — To  find  how  one  place  bears  off  another ;  that 
is,  whether  it  lies  north-east,  south-west,  or  any  oth- 
er point  of  the  compass  from  another  place  -  224 

To  find  on  what  point  of  the  compass  the  sun  rises  or  sets 

at  any  place        -  225 
ASTRONOMY  231 

A  Table  of  the  Solar  System  -         •         -  232 

Comets— Of  the  Fixed  Stars  234 


CHAPTER  IX 

HISTORY  AND  CHRONOLOGY  239 

Second  Epocha — The  Deluge           -  249 

Third  Epocha — The  Vocation  of  Abraham  - "       *  251 

Fourth  Epocha — The  Departure  out  of  Egypt  -  253 

Fifth  Epocha — The  taking  of  Troy     -  254 

Sixth  Epocha — The  Temple            -  256 

Seventh  Epocha — The  building  of  Rome  -         -  2QQ 

Eighth  Epocha — The  reign  of  Cyrus   -  266 

Ninth  Epocha — Alexander  the  Great  -  273 

Tenth  Epocha— The  Defeat  of  Perseus  -         -  282 


CHAPTER  X. 
HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND— A  Description  of  the  An- 


cient State  of  Britain       -  292 

Its  Invasion  by  the  Romans,  &c.  -         -         .  294 

William  the  Conqueror :  reigned  from  1066  to  1087    -  299 

William  11. :  from  1087  to  1 100  -         -         -  300 

Henry  L:  from  1100  to  1135      -  .         -  301 

Stephen:  from  1135  to  H 54      ....  302 

Henry  II. :  from  1154  to  1 189    -  -         -         -  303 

Richard  1. :  from  1 189  to  1 199  -         •         •  305 

John  :  from  1199  to  1216  306 

Henry  111.:  from  1216 to  12*2  307 

Edward  I.:  from  1272  to  1307  309 

Edward  11  :  from  1307  to  1327  -         -         .  310 

Edward  LI.:  from  1327  to  1377  •         -  .311 

Richard  II. :  from  1377  to  1398  ...  313 

Henry  IV. :  from  1399  to  1413  315 

Henr>  V. :  from  1413  to  1422  ...  316 

Henry  VI. :  from  1442  to  1461  -         -         -  319 

Edward  IV.:  from  1461  to  1483  321 

Edward  V. :  two  months  and  twelve  days  of  1483      -  322 

Richard  III. :  from  1483  to  1485  323 

Henry  VII.:  from  1485  to  1502  325 

Henry  VIII. :  from  1509  to  1547  326 


wpux< 


Edward  VI. :  from  1547  to  1563       -  328 

Mary  I :  from  1553  to  1558    -        •        •  339 

Elizabeth :  from  1558  to  1603  331 

James  I. :  from  1603  to  1625  333 

Charles  I.:  from  1625  to  1649  334 

The  Commonwealth  of  England :  from  1649  to  1658  -  337 

Charles  II. :  Nominally  from  1649,  actually  from  1660  to  1685  338 

James  J  I. :  from  1685  to  1688  339 

William  III. :  from  1688  to  1702  340 

Anne :  from  1702  to  1714      ....  342 

George  I. :  from  1714  to  1727  343 

George  11. :  from  1727  to  1760  345 

George  III.:  from  1760  to  1814  347 


CHAPTER  XI, 

EPITOME  OP  AMERICAN  HISTORY 
THE  ABORIGINES  - 


869 
391 


THE 

YOUNG  MAN'S 

BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


CHAP.  I. 

IMPORTANCE  OP  RELIGION. 

TT  is  acknowledged  that  man  is  superior  to  brute  crea- 
tures,  and  that  this  superiority  consists  in  his  capacity 
of  being  much  happier  in  himself,  and  in  his  power  of 
contributing  in  a  more  eminent  degree  to  the  happiness  of 
others  ;  by  which  means  he  makes  nearer  approaches  to 
his  Maker,  who  is  supremely  benevolent,  and  superlatively 
happy. 

It  is  also  well  known,  that  this  superiority  in  man,  with 
respect  to  his  power  of  enjoying  and  communicating  hap- 
piness, depends  upon  the  superiority  of  his  mental  faculties, 
by  which  he  is  capable  of  greater  comprehension  of  mind, 
of  taking  into  his  view  more  of  the  past  and  of  the  future 
along  with  the  present ;  so  that  his  ideas  are  more  com- 
plex, and  farther  removed  from  mere  sensible  objects.  In 
consequence  of  this,  the  happiness  of  man  does  not  depend 
upon  his  present  sensations,  but  is  of  a  more  stable  nature: 
and  his  resolutions  and  actions  do  not  depend  upon  varia- 
ble circumstances,  but  he  can  pursue  a  uniform  plan  of 
conduct,  without  being  diverted  from  it  by  the  events  of 
the  hour,  or  of  the  day. 

This  superior  comprehension  of  mind  cannot,  However, 
in  the  nature  of  things,  be  attained  by  man  without  a  state 

B 


14 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  01'  KSOWLEDoE. 


of  progressive  improvement,  beginning  with  the  condition 
of  a  brute  animal,  merely  impressed  by  sensible  objects, 
and  impelled  to  action  by  those  impressions,  as  children 
are  ;  because  these  impressions  are  the  elements  of  all  our 
knowledge,  and  of  all  our  powers  in  future  life  ;  and  there 
is  no  true  wisdom  in  any  attempts  to  accelerate  this  pro- 
gress beyond  a  certain  term.  For  wrhat  would  a  greater 
comprehension  of  mind,  and  a  greater  power  of  combining 
ideas,  avail  us,  without  a  stock  of  ideas  to  combine  and 
comprehend  7  It  is  well  known,  that  if  we  expect  that 
boj-s  should  ever  make  valuable  men,  they  must  continue 
some  time  in  the  state  of  boys,  or  they  will  never  make 
men  worth  forming.  In  the  very  warmth  and  impetuosity, 
and  consequently  the  occasional  irregularities  of  youth, 
we  often  perceive  the  germ  of  the  most  excellent  charac- 
ters. But  then  these  irregularities  of  youth,  by  which 
their  minds  are  stored  with  a  sufficient  variety  of  strong 
impressions,  must  not  be  continued  beyond  the  season  of 
youth,  or  that  state  of  peculiar  sensibility,  in  which  some- 
thing still  more  new  shall  be  able,  in  a  great  measure,  to 
lessen  the  effect  of  preceding  impressions,  otherwise  habits 
will  be  formed  which  will  preclude  all  farther  progress. 
In  a  course  of  time  the  mind  acquires  an  insensibilit}^  to 
new  impressions.  A  man  is  then  in  a  manner  incapable 
of  extending  his  views,  and  thereby  he  loses  the  great 
privilege  of  his  rational  nature.  His  mind  for  want  of 
an  accession  of  new  ideas,  or  farther  knowledge,  may  even- 
contract,  and  he  may  sink  into  a  state  approaching  that  of 
a  brute  animal,  and  one  that  is  old  and  intractable. 

This,  however,  we  observe  by  the  way,  though  we  shall 
have  some  farther  use  for  the  observation  hereafter  ;  our 
object  being  to  shew,  that  for  the  very  same  reason  that 
a  man  excels  other  animals,  a  believer  in  divine  revelation, 
and  especially  a  Christian,  is  superior  to  other  men  ;  his 
comprehension  of  mind  being  enlarged  by  such  knowledge 
as  revelation  brings  him  acquainted  with,  so  that  he  is 
capable  of  being  much  more  hap]rv  in  himself,  and  of  a 
more  generous  ardour  in  promoting  the  happiness  of  others. 
Also,  being  less  sensible  to  present  impressions,  he  will  be 
more  drawn  out.  of  himself,  and  be  more  free  from  that 
anxiety  "and  distress  to  which  persons  who  atttend  to 
themselves  only  are  necessarily  subject. 

It  may  not  be  improper  to  consider  as  the  first  great 


IMPORTANCE  OP  RELIGION. 


15 


article  of  revealed  religion,  because  it  is  by  this  means 
more  strongly  impressed  upon  the  mind,  though  it  is  also 
the  dictate  of  nature,  to  be  the  doctrine  of  the  being  of  a 
God.  It  so  much  stands  or  falls  with  the  belief  of  reve- 
lation, that  at  present  they  generally  go  together,  and 
they  who  are  unbelievers  in  revealed  religion,  though 
they  may  retain  the  belief  of  a  God,  have  little  motive  to 
attend  to  the  subject,  so  that  they  are  generally  practical, 
though  not  absolutely  speculative  atheists. 

Now  the  belief,  the  habitual  and  practical  belief,  of  the 
being  of  God,  a  Being  infinitely  wise,  powerful,  and  good, 
the  Author  of  universal  nature,  and  the  doctrine  of  a 
Providence,  which  is  connected  with  it,  contributes  greatly 
to  the  enlargement  of  the  mind  of  man,  extending  our 
views  beyond  what  we  immediately  see  and  hear  around 
us.  Without  this,  man  is  comparatively  a  being  of  nar- 
row views,  but  little  advanced  beyond  the  brutes,  and  has 
but  little  motive  to  attend  to  any  thing  beyond  himself, 
and  the  lowest  gratifications.  Without  this  faith  he  must 
be  liable  to  be  disturbed  and  unhinged  by  every  cross 
event. 

But  the  belief  of  a  God,  and  of  a  Providence,  of  a 
Being  who  created  all  things,  who  has  assigned  to  every 
creature  his  proper  station,  and  who  superintends  the 
whole  chain  of  events,  relieves  and  enlarges  the  mind,  and 
also  gives  us  a  lively  interest  in  the  concerns  of  others. 
The  idea  of  a  God  is  that  of  the  father  of  all  his  creatures, 
and  especially  of  all  mankind  :  and  this  suggests  the 
farther  idea,  that  all  men  are  brethren,  the  children  of  one 
common  parent  ;  and  with  this  idea,  are  intimately  con- 
nected a  thousand  other  pleasing  ideas,  and  especially  a 
sense  of  a  common  interest,  and  an  obligation  to  promote 
it  by  every  means  in  our  power.  With  this  favourable 
impression,  we  are  prepared  to  respect,  and  to  love,  all 
mankind,  as  brethren,  and  to  bear  with  one  another  as  such. 
Whereas,  without  this  idea,  we  feel  as  so  many  uncon- 
nected individuals,  turned  adrift  upon  the  wide  world, 
where  we  must  each  of  us  scramble  for  ourselves  as  well 
as  we  can,  and  shall  seldom  think  of  attending  to  others, 
any  farther  than  a  regard  to  our  own  interest  may  make 
it  expedient. 

Thus,  by  means  of  faith  in  the  being  and  providence  of 
God,  we  are  nobly  carried  out  of,  and  beyond,  ourselves, 


Id 


YOUNG  MA.PT  S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE, 


and  are  *ed  to  conceive  a  generous  regard  for  others ;  and 

by  this  we  lose  nothing  but  a  mean  selfishness,  and  witb 
it  a  tormenting  anxiety,  which  is  at  the  same  time  the 
characteristic,  and  the  punishment  of,  a  narrow,  contract- 
ed mind. 

There  is  no  true  well-founded  patriotism,  that  has  any 
other  foundation  than  this.  Without  this,  there  will 
always  be  room  for  suspicion  and  distrust,  a  suspicion  oJ 
private  and  selfish  views,  suited  to  a  mind  destitute  of  this 
great  and  enlarged  principle,  of  all  mankind  constituting 
one  family,  under  one  great  head  ;  the  idea  of  an  univer- 
sal parent,  who  regards  us  all  as  his  children,  and  who 
requires  that  we  regard  each  other  in  the  same  pleasing 
light. 

Without  faith  in  God,  and  a  belief  of  his  universal 
benevolent  providence,  men  must  be  liable  to  be  peculiarly 
distressed  and  disconcerted  at  such  calamitous  events  as 
we  are  daily  subject  to.  They  are  evils  in  themselves, 
and  we  do  not  know  to  what  farther  evils  they  may  lead. 
Even  the  good  that  we  see  is  uncertain  and  unstable,  and 
for  any  thing  that  we  know,  may  terminate  in  evil,  which 
it  will  thereby  only  serve  to  aggravate.  In  this  state  of 
mind  all  is  darkness  and  confusion,  anxiety  and  dread. 

But  the  moment  that  we  begin  to  consider  the  world 
not  as  a  fatherless  world,  but  that  there  is  a  principle  of 
wisdom  and  goodness  presiding  over  all,  and  believe  that 
nothing  can  come  to  pass  without  the  knowledge  and 
intention  of  this  infinite  wisdom  and  goodness,  the  gloom 
vanishes,  and  day-light  bursts  upon  us.  For  though  we 
be  still  at  a  loss  to  account  for  particular  events,  and  do  not 
distinctly  see  their  tendency  to  good,  our  firm  persuasion 
that  good  is  intended,  and  will  be  the  result  of  the  whole 
scheme,  is  not  at  all  shaken  ;  and  then  nothing  will 
remain  but  a  j  leasing  curiosity  with  respect  to  the  manner 
in  which  tb  ;  good  will  be  produced.  In  the  midst  of 
calamity  w  can,  with  this  persuasion,  live  a  life  of  faith, 
and  of  joy. 

Thus  does  the  belief  of  a  God  and  a  Providence  contribute 
to  make  a  man  a  much  greater  and  happier  being  than  he 
otherwise  could  be.  It  enlarges  his  views  of  the  system 
of  nature,  of  which  he  is  a  part.  It  discovers  to  him  his 
connexion  with,  and  his  interest  in,  other  beings,  and  other 
things.    It  leads  him  to  look  backward  to  the  origin  of 


IMPORTANCE  OF  RELIGION. 


17 


things,  and  forward  to  the  termination  of  the  great  drama, 
and  to  believe  that  it  will  be  most  glorious  and  happy. 

This  end  will  be  much  farther  promoted  by  the  great 
doctrine  of  revelation,  that  this  life  is  not  the  whole  of  our 
existence  ;  that  it  is  only  a  state  of  probation  and  discipline, 
calculated  to  train  us  up  for  a  future  and  more  glorious 
state  after  death.  How  different  and  how  superior  a  being 
must  this  view,  properly  impressed  upon  the  mind,  make  a 
man.  It  is  a  difference  not  easy  to  describe,  but  it  may 
be  felt,  A  being  of  a  day  will  have  his  views,  thoughts, 
and  schemes,  adapted  to  a  day.  To-morrow  can  not  inte- 
rest him,  because  he  has  no  interest  in  it.  If  he  like  the 
scenes  of  the  day,  to  which  his  existence  is  confined,  his 
heart  must  sicken  at  the  idea  of  any  thing  beyond  it  because 
he  is  totally  excluded  from  it. 

What,  then,  must  be  the  feelings  of  the  man  who  truly 
and  habitually  believes  that  he  is  born  for  eternity  ;  that 
years  and  ages  bear  no  sensible  proportion  to  the  term  of 
his  existence  ;  that  the  duration  of  the  sun,  moon,  and 
stars,  is  no  more  than  a  period  that  divides  his  existence, 
and  assists  bim  in  measuring  it  ;  that  when  they  shall  be 
no  more,  he  only,  as  it  were,  begins  to  be,  and  that  other 
suns  and  other  worlds  will  be  equally  short-lived  with 
respect  to  him.  How  sublime,  and  how  animating  is  the 
thought.  Can  any  thing  mean  and  sordid  occupy  the 
breast  of  a  being  who  is  persuaded  of  this  granddestination  ? 
Will  he  not  overlook  every  thing  temporary,  and"  be  ever 
stretching  his  thoughts  to  thirgs  eternal,  in  which  his 
interest  is  infinitely  greater  than  in  any  thing  here  ? 

We  think  highly,  and  justly  so,  of  the  advantage  which 
an  acquaintance  with  history  gives  a  man  over  one  who 
has  no  knowledge  of  any  events  besides  those  of  his  own 
times.  We  are  highly  gratified  in  being  made  acquainted 
with  the  origin,  and  early  history,  of  the  country  in  which 
we  were  born,  and  of  the  nation  to  which  we  belong.  We 
are  sensible  that  travelling,  and  seeing  other  countries, 
and  other  customs,  and  our  own,  improves  and  enlarges 
the  mind.  It  adds  to  our  stock  of  ideas,  and  gives  us  a 
greater  field  of  contemplation.  It  is  thereby  the  means 
of  removing  local  prejudices,  and  of  lessening  the  influence 
of  all  ideas  connected  with  that  of  self. 

What,  then,  must  it  be  to  be  enabled,  by  the  help  of 
revelation,  to  look  so  far  back  as  to  the  origin  of  the 


IS 


young  man's  book  of  knowledge. 


world,  to  range  through  all  the  successive  dispensationa 
of  God  to  man,  to  contemplate  more  especially  the  pro- 
mulgation of  the  gospel,  and  to  look  forward  to  that 
glorious  state  of  things  which  is  to  take  place  in  conse- 
quence of  its  universal  spread  ;  to  look  farther  still  to  the 
resurrection  of  the  dead,  and  the  day  of  final  judgment, 
followed  by  a  never-ending  eternity  ? 

What  a  fund  of  great  thoughts  do  these  great  subjects 
supply,  and  how  scanty  must  be  the  furniture  of  the  man's 
mind,  let  him  be  a  philosopher,  an  historian,  a  statesman, 
or  whatever  else  the  world  can  make  him,  or  he  can  make 
himself,  compared  with  that  of  the  meanest  Christian,  to 
whom  these  great  and  extensive  views  of  things  are  fami- 
liar. 

The  contemplation  of  such  objects  as  those  is  sufficient 
to  raise  a  man  above  the  world,  and  all  the  little  pursuits 
and  gratifications  of  it.  Will  such  a  man  as  this  bestow 
much  thought  on  the  indulgence  of  his  appetites  and  pas- 
sions ?  Will  he  envy  any  man  the  enjoyment  of  any  thing 
that  this  world  can  give  him  '?  or  will  he  have  a  wish  to 
aggrandize  himself  or  his  family  in  it  ? 

Let  us,  then,  most  seriously  exhort  the  young  reader  to 
listen  with  all  earnestness  to  the  sacred  commands  of  the 
great  Founder  of  Christianity.  Continue  to  embrace  with 
the  most  unshaken  firmness,  and  to  maintain  writh  tempe- 
rate yet  unabating  zeal,  the  religion  which  he  descended 
from  heaven  to  establish  in  the  world.  Recollect  that  the 
characteristic  tenets  of  that  religion  are  faith,  hope,  and 
charity.  Faith  does  not  merely  consist  in  the  assent  of 
your  judgment  to  the  evidences  of  Christianity,  which  are 
irresistible,  but  is  a  pure  and  lively  source  of  obedience  to 
the  divine  commands.  It  is  a  principle  which  subdues 
the  pride  of  human  reason,  gives  to  God  the  glory  of  our 
salvation,  and  to  Christ  the  merit  of  it.  Like  a  good  tree, 
it  may  be  known  by  its  abundant  and  excellent  fruits  ;  it 
sanctifies  all  the  moral  virtues,  and  renders  them  accept- 
able in  the  sight  of  God. — Charity,  the  bright,  the  lovely 
ornament  of  the  Christian  character,  extends  its  benign 
influence  to  all  men,  without  distinction  of  country,  seel, 
or  opinion  ;  and  in  its  various  relations  and  comprehensive 
exercise  for  the  good  of  all,  whom  it  is  in  our  powrer  to 
benefit,  raises  us  to  a  resemblance,  as  far  as  human  nature 
will  allow,  of  our  Father  in  heaven.    To  keep  the  spirit 


IMPORTANCE  OF  RELIGION 


if 


of  religion  warm  and  operative  in  your  hearts,  maintain  a 
hallowed  intercourse  wiih  the  Almighty  by  public  and 
private  devotion :  to  the  same  end  the  perusal  of  the  Holy 
Scriptures  will  materially  contribute.  In  them  you  will 
find  that  the  Saviour  of  the  World  has  illustrated  his 
precepts  by  the  most  pleasing  and  striking  parables, 
enforced  them  by  the  most  awful  sanctions,  and  recom- 
mended them  by  his  own  greatest  and  best  of  all  examples. 
There  he  unfolds  the  great  mystery  of  redemption,  and 
communicates  the  means  by  which  degenerate  and  fallen 
man  may  recover  the  favour  of  his  offended  Maker.  He 
gives  a  clear  view  of  the  divine  superintendence  of  all 
human  affairs  ;  and  he  represents  this  mortal  life,  which 
forms  only  a  part  of  our  existence,  as  a  short  period  of 
warfare  and  trial.  He  points  to  the  solemn  scenes,  which 
open  beyond  the  grave  ;  the  resurrection  of  the  dead,  the 
last  judgment,  and  the  impartial  distribution  of  rewards 
and  punishments.  He  displays  the  completion  of  the 
divine  mercy  and  goodness,  in  the  final  establishment  of 
perfection  and  happiness.  By  making  such  wonderful  and 
interesting  discoveries,  let  him  excite  your  zeal,  and  fix 
your  determination  to  adorn  the  acquirements  of  learning 
and  science  with  the  graces  of  his  holy  religion,  and  to 
dedicate  the  days  of  health  and  of  youth  to  his  honour 
and  service.  Amid  the  retirement  of  study,  or  the  busi- 
ness of  active  life,  let  it  be  your  first  care,  as  it  is  your 
duty,  and  your  interest,  to  recollect,  that  the  great  Author 
and  Finisher  of  }rour  faith  has  placed  the  rewards  of  vir- 
tue beyond  the  reach  of  time  and  death,  and  promised 
that  eternal  happiness  to  the  faith  and  obedience  of  man, 
which  can  alone  fill  his  capacity  for  enjoyment,  and  alone 
satisfy  the  ardent  desires  of  his  soul 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE 


CHAP.  II. 

WORKS  OF  NATURE. 

It  is  the  glorious  privilege  of  man,  while  other  animals 
are  confined  within  the  limits  which  instinct  has  prescribed, 
to  carry  his  observations  beyond  his  own  immediate 
wants,  and  to  contemplate  the  universe  at  large.  He 
extends  his  enquiries  to  all  the  objects  which  surround 
him  ;  exercises  his  judgment,  and  informs  his  understandr 
ing,  by  ascertaining  their  nature,  properties,  and  uses.  In 
the  various  branches  of  the  mathematics,  in  the  abstract 
speculations  of  metaphysics,  or  in  searching  the  records  of 
history,  he  is  solely  intent  on  the  operations  of  his  own 
mind,  or  the  actions  of  himself  and  his  fellow-creatures  : 
but  in  the  study  of  nature,  he  examines  every  object  pre- 
sented to  his  senses,  and  takes  a  general  survey  of  the 
wide  and  interesting  prospects  of  the  creation.  The  earth 
he  treads,  the  ocean  he  crosses,  the  air  he  breathes,  the 
starry  heavens  on  which  he  gazes,  the  mines  and  caverns 
he  explores,  all  present  to  him  abundant  materials  for  his 
researches.  And,  when  thus  employed,  he  is  engaged  in 
a  manner  peculiarly  suitable  to  his  faculties,  since  he  alone 
is  capable  of  knowledge,  he  alone  is  distinguished  by  the 
power  of  admiration,  and  exalted  by  the  faculty  of  reason. 
The  terraqueous  globe  presents  a  most  glorious  and  sublime 
prospect,  equally  worthy  of  the  capacity  of  man  to  con- 
template, and  beautiful  to  his  eye  to  behold.  And  the 
treasures  of  nature,  which  this  prospect  comprehends,  are 
so  rich  and  inexhaustible,  that  they  may  furnish  employ- 
ment for  his  greatest  diligence,  stimulated  by  the  most 
ardent  curiosity,  and  assisted  by  the  most  favourable 
opportunities.  At  the  same  time  that  she  solicits  him  to 
follow  her,  not  only  into  her  open  walks,  but  likewise  to 
explore  her  secret  recesses,  she  fails  not  to  reward  him 
wi  n  the  purest  gratifications  of  the  mind,  because  at 
every  step  he  takes,  new  instances  of  beauty,  variety,  and 
perfection,  are  unfolded  to  his  view.  The  study  of  the 
works  of  nature  is  in  itself  capable  of  affording  the  most 
refined  pleasure,  and  the  most  edifying  instruction.  All 
the  objects  with  which  we  are  surrounded,  the  smallest  as 


WORKS  OF  NATURE. 


n 


well  as  the  greatest,  teach  us  some  useful  lesson.  All  of 
them  speak  a  language  directed  to  man,  and  to  man  alone. 
Their  evident  tendency  to  some  determined  end,  marks 
the  designs  of  a  great  Creator.  The  volume  of  creation 
contains  the  objects  of  arts,  science,  and  philosophy,  and 
is  open  to  the  inspection  of  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  globe. 
Nature  speaks  by  her  works  an  universal  language,  the 
rudiments  of  which  are  peculiarly  adapted  to  the  inclina- 
tion and  capacity  of  the  young,  whose  curiosity  may  be 
gratified  and  excited  by  turns ;  but  more  profound  and 
extensive  enquiries  are  suitable  to  the  contemplations  of 
persons  of  every  age  ;  and  no  subject  can  be  more  worthy 
of  their  attentive  observation. 

Whoever  opens  his  eyes,  and  surveys  the  creation  with 
the  least  al  tent  ion,  must  perceive  a  beautiful  variety  of 
objects  that  present  themselves  to  view,  and  seem  to 
demand  his  notice.  In  summer,  meadows  enamelled  with 
numberless  plants  and  flowers,  affording  rich  pasturage 
for  cattle  ;  fields  waving  with  different  kinds  of  grain  for 
the  use  of  man  ;  woods,  forests,  plains,  and  mountains, 
differently  adorned,  and  ponds,  lakes,  or  winding  rivers, 
varying  the  charming  scene.  In  winter  the  forest  naked, 
nature,  as  it  were,  suspending  her  productive  power ;  the 
air  severe  and  piercing,  the  earth  frozen,  the  waters  render- 
ed hard,  and  capable  of  bearing  men,  cattle  and  carriages  ; 
the  falling  of  the  fleecy  snow,  and  all  the  circumstances 
attending  this  cold  rigorous  season  ;  every  particular 
deserves  our  consideration,  and  commands  inquiry.  Look 
we  out  at  night,  when  darkness  covers  and  conceals  the 
beauties  of  our  earthly  globe,  we  shall  find  this  temporary 
loss  made  up  to  us  by  those  numberless  and  glorious 
stars  that  glitter  in  the  magnificent  canopy  hanging  over 
us  ;  and  if  the  moon  arises,  her  mild  and  friendly  rays 
enlighten  the  silent  scene,  and  give  a  fainter  day. — In 
short,  whatever  the  season  of  the  year,  whether  cheerful 
spring,  warm  summer,  rich  autumn,  or  cold  winter  ;  what- 
ever the  hour  of  the  day  or  night,  things  worthy  of  our 
most  serious  notice  are  at  hand  ;  things  which  to  know 
may  truly  be  called  learning,  and  in  the  study  of  which 
an  intelligent  being  may  always  employ  his  leisure  hours 
with  pleasure.  But  some  kind  of  method  is  necessary,  to 
lead  the  mind  at  first  into  a  proper  train  of  inquiry.  We 
will  therefore  proceed,  step  by  step,  first  explaining  some 


22 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE, 


of  the  most  common  appearances  of  nature,  such  as  air, 
water,  wind,  rain,  thunder,  &c.  then  descending  into  the 
bowels  of  the  earth,  we  will  give  you  some  knowledge  of 
metals  and  minerals,  such  as  gold,  silver,  iron,  lead,  with 
many  other  phenomena,  &c.  ;  then  wandering  over  its 
surface,  we  will  take  a  view  of  the  vegetable  world,  and 
all  its  beauties,  and  from  thence  we  will  proceed  to  the 
animal  creation,  and  survey  the  insects,  birds,  fishes,  and 
beasts,  and,  lastly,  raise  our  thoughts,  and  close  the  whole 
with  some  particular  inquiries  into  the  nature  and  powers 
of  man. 


Sect.  I. — Of  the  Air  and  Atmosphere. 


The  exterior  part  of  this  our  habitable  world,  is  the  air 
or  atmosphere  ;  a  light  thin  fluid,  or  springy  body,  that 
encompasses  the  solid  earth  on  all  sides,  and  partakes  of 
all  its  motions,  both  annual  and  diurnal. 

The  composition  of  that  part  of  our  atmosphere,  pro- 
perly called  air,  was  till  lately  but  very  little  known. — 
Formerly  it  was  supposed  to  be  a  simple,  homogeneous, 
and  elementary  fluid.  But  the  experiments  of  Dr.  Priest- 
ley, and  others,  have  discovered,  that  even  the  purest  kind 
of  air,  which  they  call  vital  or  dephlogisticated,  is  in  reality 
a  compound,  and  might  be  artificially  produced  in  various 
ways.  This  dephlogisticated  air,  however,  is  but  a  small 
part  of  the  composition  of  our  atmosphere.  By  accurate 
experiments,  the  air  we  usually  breathe,  is  composed  of 
only  one-fourth  part  of  this  dephlogisticated  air,  or  per- 
haps less,  the  other  three  parts,  or  more,  consisting  of  what 
Dr.  Priestley  calls  phlogisticated,  and  M.  Lavoisier,  in  the 
new  chemistry,  mephitic  air,  which  cannot  be  breathed, 
and  in  which  animals  die. 

Though  air  seems  to  be  a  kind  of  repository,  wherein 
all  the  poisonous  effluvia  arising  from  putrid  and  corrupted 
matters  are  lodged  ;  yet  it  has  a  wonderful  facility  of 
purifying  itself,  and  of  depositing  those  vapours  contained 
in  it ;  so  that  it  never  becomes  noxious,  except  in  particu- 
lar places,  and  for  a  short  time  ;  the  general  mass  remain- 
ing upon  all  occasions  pretty  much  the  same.  The  way 
in  which  this  purification  is  effected  is  different,  according 


WORKS  OF  NATURE. 


23 


to  the  nature  of  the  vapour  with  which  the  air  is  loaded. 
That  which  most  universally  prevails  is  water  ;  and  from 
experiments  it  appears,  that  the  quantity  of  aqueous 
vapour  contained  in  the  atmosphere  is  immense.  Doctor 
Halley,  from  an  experiment  on  the  evaporation  from  a 
fluid  surface,  heated  to  the  same  degree  with  that  given  by 
our  meridian  sun,  has  calculated,  that  the  evaporation 
from  the  Mediterranean  Sea,  in  a  summer's  day,  is  5280 
millions  of  tons  of  water,  which  is  more  than  it  receives 
from  all  the  nine  large  rivers  that  empty  themselves  into 
it.  Dr.  Watson,  in  his  Chemical  Essays,  has  given  an 
account  of  some  experiments  made  with  a  view  to  determine 
the  quantity  of  water  raised  from  the  earth  itself  alone  in 
time  of  drought.  He  informs  us  that  when  there  had  been 
no  rain  for  above  a  month,  and  the  grass  was  become  quite 
brown  and  parched,  the  evaporation  from  an  acre  was  not 
less  than  1600  gallons  in  twenty-four  hours.  Making 
afterwards  two  experiments,  when  the  ground  had  been 
wetted  by  a  thunder  shower  the  day  before,  the  one  gave 
1973,  the  other  1905  gallons,  in  12  hours.  From  this  the 
air  is  every  moment  purified  by  the  ascent  of  the  vapour, 
which  flying  off  into  the  clouds,  thus  leaves  room  for  the 
exhalation  of  fresh  quantities  ;  so  that  as  the  vapour  is 
considerably  lighter  than  the  common  atmosphere,  and  in 
consequence  ascends  with  greater  velocity,  the  air  during 
all  this  time  is  said  to  be  dry,  notwithstanding  the  vast 
quantity  of  aqueous  fluid  that  passes  through  it. 

In  the  physical  economy  also,  another  provision  is  made 
for  the  continual  renovation  of  the  atmosphere.  Plants 
derive  subsistence  from  the  very  air  that  is  unfit  for  animal 
life,  and  in  return,  actually  emit  that  vital  or  dephlogisti* 
cated  air,  upon  the  enjoyment  of  which  the  latter  depends. 
Thus  we  see  a  constant  circulation  of  benefits  maintained 
between  the  two  great  provinces  of  organized  nature. 
The  plant  purifies  what  the  animal  had  poisoned  ;  in 
return,  the  contaminated  air  is  more  than  ordinarily 
nutritious  to  the  plant.  Agitation  with  water  appears  to 
be  another  of  these  restoratives.  The  foulest  air  shaken 
in  a  bottle  with  water  for  a  sufficient  length  of  time, 
recovers  a  great  degree  of  its  purity.  Here  then  again, 
allowing  for  the  scale  upon  which  nature  works,  we  see 
the  salutary  effects  of  storms  and  tempests.  The  yesty 
waves,  which  confound  the  heaven  and  th»  seat  are  doing 


24  young  man's  book  of  knowledge. 

the  very  thing  which  is  done  in  the  bottle,  and  are  a  per- 
petual source  of  freshness  to  our  atmosphere. 

The  atmosphere,  as  we  have  seen,  contains  a  great  deal 
of  water,  together  with  a  vast  heterogeneous  collection  of 
particles  raised  from  all  bodies  of  matter  on  the  surface  of 
the  earth,  by  effluvia,  exhalations,  &c,  so  that  it  may  be 
considered  as  a  chaos  of  the  particles  of  all  sorts  of  matter 
confusedly  mingled  together.  And  hence  the  atmosphere 
has  been  considered  as  a  large  chemical  vessel,  in  which 
the  matter  of  all  kinds  of  sublunary  bodies  is  copiously 
floating  ;  and  thus  exposed  to  the  continual  action  of 
that  immense  surface,  the  sun  ;  from  whence  proceed 
innumerable  operations,  sublimations,  separations,  composi- 
tions, digestions,  fermentations,  putrefactions,  &c. 

There  is,  however,  one  substance,  namely,  the  electrical 
fluid,  which  is  very  distinguishable  in  the  mass  of  the 
atmosphere.  To  measure  the  absolute  quantity  of  this 
fluid,  either  in  the  atmosphere,  or  any  other  substance,  is 
perhaps  impossible  ;  and  all  that  we  know  on  this  subject 
is,  that  the  electric  fluid  pervades  the  atmosphere  ;  that  it 
appears  to  be  more  abundant  in  the  superior  than  the  infe- 
rior regions  ;  that  it  seems  to  be  the  immediate  bond  of 
connection  between  the  atmosphere  and  the  water  which 
is  suspended  in  it  ;  and  that,  by  its  various  operations,  the 
phenomena  of  the  meteors  are  occasioned. 

It  is  the  opinion  of  the  most  celebrated  philosophers  of 
the  present  day,  that  the  electric  fluid  is  no  other  than  the 
light  of  the  sun  ;  that  it  issues  from  that  luminary  in  the 
pure  state  of  electricity,  that  joining  particles  of  our 
atmosphere,  it  becomes  light  ^  and  uniting  with  the  grosser 
earth,  fire.  The  evaporation  of  water  is  attended  with  an 
absorption  of  this  fluid  from  the  surface  of  our  globe,  and 
on  the  other  hand,  the  conversion  of  steam  into  water,  is 
attended  with  a  deposition  of  this  subtile  fluid  ;  so  that 
there  is  a  circulation  in  the  electric  fluid  as  there  is  in  the 
water.  It  descends  originally  from  the  sun  ;  pervades  the 
whole  substance  of  the  globe  ;  and  perspiring,  as  it  were, 
at  every  pore,  ascends  beyond  the  clouds  ;  and  passing 
the  extreme  boundaries  of  our  atmosphere,  returns  to  the 
sun  from  whence  it  came. 

The  uses  of  the  atmosphere  are  so  many  and  great, 
that  it  seems  indeed  absolutely  necessary,  not  only  to  the 
comfort  and  convenience  of  men,  but  even  to  the  existence 


WORKS  OF  NATURE. 


2b 


of  all  animal  and  vegetable  life,  and  to  the  very  constitu- 
tion of  all  kinds  of  matter  whatever,  and  without  which 
they  would  not  be  what  they  are  ;  for  by  it  we  live,  breathe, 
and  have  our  being  ;  and  by  insinuating  itself  into  all  the 
vacuities  of  bodies,  it  becomes  the  great  spring  of  most  of 
the  mutations  here  below,  as  generation,  corruption,  dis- 
solution, &c.  and  without  which  none  of  these  operations 
could  be  carried  on.  Without  the  atmosphere,  no  animal 
could  exist,  or  indeed  be  produced  ;  neither  any  plant,  all 
vegetation  ceasing  without  its  aid  ;  there  would  be  neither 
fain  nor  dews  to  moisten  the  face  of  the  ground  ;  and 
though  we  might  perceive  the  sun  and  stars  like  bright 
specks,  we  should  be  in  utter  darkness,  having  none  of 
what  we  call  day  light,  or  even  twilight ;  nor  wrould  either 
fire  or  heat  exist  without  it.  In  short,  the  nature  and 
constitution  of  all  matter  would  be  changed  and  cease  ; 
wanting  this  universal  bond  and  constituting  principle. 

As  to  the  weight  and  pressure  of  the  air,  it  is  evident 
that  the  mass  of  the  atmosphere,  in  common  with  all 
other  matter,  must  be  endowed  with  weight  and  pressure, 
and  this  principle  was  asserted  by  almost  all  philosophers, 
both  ancient  and  modern.  But  it  was  only  by  means  of 
the  experiments  made  with  pumps,  and  the  barometrical 
tube,  by  Galileo  and  Taricelli,  that  we  came  to  the 
proof,  not  only  that  the  atmosphere  is  endued  with  a  pres- 
sure, but  also  what  the  measure  and  quantity  of  that 
pressure  is.  Thus  it  is  found,  that  the  pressure  of  the 
atmosphere  sustains  a  column  of  quicksilver,  in  the  tube 
of  the  barometer,  of  about  thirty  inches  in  height ;  it  there- 
fore follows,  that  the  wThole  pressure  of  the  atmosphere  is 
equal  to  the  weight  of  a  column  of  quicksilver,  of  an 
equal  base,  and  thirty  inches  in  height  ;  and  because  a 
cubical  inch  of  quicksilver  is  found  to  weigh  nearly  half  a 
pound  avoirdupoise,  therefore  the  whole  thirty  inches,  or 
the  weight  of  the  atmosphere  on  every  square  inch  of 
surface,  is  equal  to  151b.  Again,  as  it  has  been  found  that 
the  pressure  of  the  atmosphere  balances  in  the  case  of 
pumps,  &c.  a  column  of  water  of  about  34}  feet  high  ; 
and,  the  cubical  foot  of  water  weighing  just  1CC0  ounces, 
or  62  lb.  34}  times  62}-,  or  21581b.  will  be  the  weight  of 
the  column  of  water,  or  the  atmosphere,  on  a  base  of  a 
square  foot,  and  consequently  the  144th  part  of  this,  or 
151b.  is  the  weight  of  the  atmosphere,  on  a  square  inch  j 
c 


26 


YOUNG  MAN*S  BOOK  OJ^  KNOWLEDGE. 


the  same  as  before.  Hence,  Mr.  Cotes  computed  that  tha 
pressure  of  this  ambient  fluid  on  the  whole  surface  of  the 
earth,  is  equivalent  to  that  of  a  globe  of  lead  of  sixty 
miles  in  diameter.  And  hence  also  it  appears,  that  the 
pressure  upon  the  human  body  must  be  very  considerable  ; 
for  as  every  square  inch  of  surface  sustains  a  pressure  of 
151b.  every  square  foot  will  sustain  144  times  as  much,  or 
21601b. ;  then,  if  the  whole  surface  of  man's  body  be  sup- 
posed to  contain  15  square  feet,  which  is  pretty  near  the 
truth,  he  must  sustain  15  times  2,160,  or  32,4001b,  that  is, 
near  14£  tons  weight  for  his  ordinary  load.  By  this 
enormous  pressure,  we  should  undoubtedly  be  crushed  in  a 
moment,  if  all  parts  of  bodies  were  not  filled  either  with 
air  or  some  other  elastic  fluid,  the  spring  of  which  is  just 
sufficient  to  counterbalance  the  weight  of  the  atmosphere. 
But,  whatever  this  fluid  may  be,  it  is  certain,  that  it  is  just 
able  to  counteract  the  weight  of  the  atmosphere,  and  no 
more  ;  for  if  any  considerable  pressure  be  superadded  to 
that  of  the  air,  as  by  going  into  deep  water,  or  the  like,  it 
is  always  severely  felt,  let  it  be  ever  so  equable,  at  least 
when  the  change  is  made  suddenly ;  and  if,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  pressure  of  the  atmosphere  be  taken  off  from 
any  part  of  the  human  body,  as  the  hand  for  instance, 
when  put  over  an  open  receiver,  from  whence  the  air  is 
afterwards  extracted,  the  weight  of  the  external  atmo- 
sphere then  prevails,  and  we  imagine  the  hand  strongly 
sucked  down  into  the  glass. 

The  difference  in  the  weight  of  the  air  which  our  bodies 
sustain  at  one  time  more  than  another,  is  also  very  con* 
siderable,  from  the  natural  changes  in  the  state  of  the 
atmosphere.  This  change  takes  place  chiefly  in  countries 
at  some  distance  from  the  equator  ;  and,  as  the  barometer 
varies  at  times  from  twenty-eight  to  thirty-one  inches,  or 
about  one-tenth  of  the  whole  quantity,  it  follows,  that  this 
difference  amounts  to  about  a  ton  and  a  half  on  the  whole 
body  of  a  man,  which  he  therefore  sustains  at  one  time 
more  than  at  another.  On  the  increase  of  this  natural 
weight,  the  weather  is  commonly  fine,  and  we  feel  our- 
selves what  we  call  braced,  and  more  alert  and  active  : 
but,  on  the  contrary,  when  the  weight  of  the  air  diminishes, 
the  weather  is  bad,  and  people  feel  a  listlessness  and 
inactivity  about  them.  And  hence  it  is  no  wonder,  that 
persons  suffer  very  much  in  their  health,  from  such  change?! 


works  of  nature. 


in  the  atmosphere,  especially  when  they  take  place  very 
suddenly. 

The  weight  of  the  atmosphere  has  great  influence  on  a 
number  of  physical  phenomena.  It  compresses  all  bodies, 
and  opposes  their  dilatation.  It  is  an  obstacle  to  the  eva- 
poration of  fluids.  The  water  of  the  sea  is  by  this  cause 
preserved  in  its  liquid  state,  without  which  it  would  take 
the  vaporous  form,  as  we  see  in  the  vacuum  of  the  air 
pump. — The  pressure  of  the  air  on  our  bodies  preserves 
the  state  both  of  the  solids  and  fluids  :  and,  from  the  want 
of  this  due  pressure  it  is,  that  on  the  summits  of  lofty 
mountains,  the  blood  often  issues  from  the  pores  of  the 
skin,  or  from  the  lungs. 

Various  attempts  have  been  made  to  ascertain  the 
weight  to  which  the  atmosphere  is  extended  all  round  the 
earth.  These  commenced  soon  after  it  was  discovered,  by 
means  of  the  Toricellian  tube,  that  air  is  endued  with 
weight  and  pressure.  And  had  not  the  air  an  elastic 
power,  but  were  it  every  where  of  the  same  density,  from  the 
surface  of  the  earth  to  the  extreme  limit  of  the  atmosphere, 
like  water,  which  is  equally  dense  at  all  depths,  it  would 
be  a  very  easy  matter  to  determine  its  height  from  its 
density,  and  the  column  of  mercury  it  would  counterba- 
lance in  the  barometer  tube :  for,  it  having  been  observed, 
that  the  weight  of  the  atmosphere  is  equivalent  to  a  column 
of  thirty  inches,  or  22L  feet  of  quicksilver,  and  the  density 
of  the  former  to  that  of  the  latter,  as  1  to  11,040  ;  there- 
fore the  height  of  the  uniform  atmosphere  would  be  11,040 
times  22L  feet,  that  is,  27,600  feet,  or  little  more  than  5} 
miles.  But  the  air,  by  its  elastic  quality,  expands  and  con- 
tracts ;  and  it  being  found,  by  repeated  experiments  in 
most  nations  of  Europe,  that  the  spaces  it  occupies,  when 
compressed  by  different  weights,  are  reciprocally  propor- 
tional to  those  weights  themselves  ;  or,  that  the  more  the 
air  is  pressed,  so  much  the  less  space  it  takes  up  ;  it  follows 
that  the  air  in  the  upper  regions  of  the  atmosphere  must 
grow  continually  more  and  more  rare,  as  it  ascends  higher : 
and,  indeed  that,  according  to  that  law,  it  must  neces- 
sarily be  extended  to  anindeflnite  height.  At  the  height  of 
3  2  miles,  the  density  of  the  atmosphere  is  nearly  2  times 
rarer  than  it  is  at  the  surface  of  the  earth  ;  at  the  height 
of  seven  miles,  4  times  rarer,  and  so  on,  according  to  the 
following  table, 


YOUNG  MAN5S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE 


Height  in  miles.  Number  of  times  rarer, 

3^   2 

7   4 

14   16 

21   64 

28   256 

35    1024 

42    4096 

49    16384 

56    65536 

63    262144 

70    1048576 


By  pursuing  these  calculations,  it  might  be  easily  shewn 
that  a  cubic  inch  of  the  air  we  breathe  would  be  so  much 
rarefied  at  the  height  of  500  miles,  that  it  would  f»U  a 
sphere  equal  in  diameter  to  the  orbit  of  Saturn.  Hence 
we  may  perceive  how  very  soon  the  air  becomes  so 
extremely  rare  and  light,  as  to  be  utterly  imperceptible  to 
all  experience  ;  and  that  hence,  if  all  the  planets  have 
such  atmospheres  as  our  earth,  they  will,  at  the  distances 
of  the  planets  from  one  another,  be  so  extremely  attenuat- 
ed, as  to  give  no  sensible  resistance  to  the  planets  in  their 
motion  round  the  sun  for  many,  perhaps  hundreds  or 
thousand  of  ages  to  come.  Even  at  the  height  of  about 
fifty  miles,  it  is  so  rare  as  to  have  no  sensible  effect  on  the 
rays  of  light. 

Mr.  Boyle,  in  his  physico-mechanical  experiments  con- 
cerning the  air,  declares  it  probable,  that  the  atmosphere 
may  be  several  hundred  miles  high  ;  which  is  easy  to  be 
admitted,  when  we  consider  wThat  he  proves  in  another 
part  of  the  same  treatise,  viz: — that  the  air  here  about  the 
surface  of  the  earth,  when  the  pressure  is  taken  from  it, 
dilates  into  10,000,  and  even  at  last  into  13.679  times  its 
space  ;  and  this  altogether  by  its  own  expansive  force, 
without  the  help  of  fire.  In  fact,  it  appears,  that  the  air 
we  breathe  is  compressed  by  its  own  weight  into  at  least 
the  13,679th  part  of  the  space  it  would  possess  in  vacuo. 
But  if  the  same  air  be  condensed  by  art,  the  space  it  would 
take  up  when  most  dilated,  to  that  it  possesses  when 
condensed,  will  be  according  to  the  same  author's  experi- 
ments, as  550,000  to  1, 


WORK S  Of*  NATURE, 


29 


Our  direct  experiments,  however,  not  reaching  to  an^ 
great  heights  into  the  regions  of  the  atmosphere,  and  nov 
knowing  how  far  air  may  be  expanded,  we  are  incapable 
of  determining  to  what  height  the  atmosphere  is  actuallj 
extended. 


Sect.  II.— Of  the  Meteors. 

We  have  seen  that  the  atmosphere  is  a  vast  laboratory, 
in  which  nature  operates  immense  analysis,  solutions,  pre- 
cipitations, and  combinations  ;  it  is  a  grand  receiver,  in 
which  all  theat  tenuated,  volatilized  productions  of  terres- 
trial bodies  are  received,  mingled,  agitated,  combined,  and 
separated.  Considered  in  this  view,  the  atmospheric  air 
is  a  chaos,  an  indeterminate  mixture  of  mineral,  vegeta- 
ble, and  animal  effluvia,  which  the  electric  fluid  is  per- 
vading and  traversing  continually.  The  grand  changes  it 
experiences,  and  of  which  we  are  sensible  in  extensive 
spaces  by  the  appearance  of  wTater,  light,  or  noise,  are  cal- 
led meteors.  As  the  state  of  the  atmosphere  is  ever 
varying,  the  meteors  assume  different  forms  ;  some 
delighting  us  with  their  appearance,  while  others  wear  a 
terrifying  aspect.  In  this  repository  is  collected  the  gentle 
dew  and  hoar  frost  ;  here  clouds  are  gathered  and  carried 
along  by  the  wind,  to  refresh  the  earth  in  falling  showers, 
give  rise  to  rivers,  spread  vast  inundations  of  water  over 
the  fields,  or  lay  them  under  a  covering  of  snow  or  hail  ; 
here  mock-suns,  mock-moons,  halos,  and  rainbows,  make 
their  gaudy  but  transitory  appearance  ;  and  here  the 
water-spout,  dreadful  to  the  mariner  ;  here  rolls  the  dread- 
ful thunder,  here  lightinings  dart  their  vivid  flames,  and 
sometimes  striking  upon  the  earth,  destroy  its  productions, 
fill  its  habitants  with  terror,  and  sometimes  strikes  them 
dead  ;  here  the  aurora,  or  streamers,  the  ignus  fatui,  or 
wandering  fires,  called  also  Jack  with  the  lantern  ;  here 
falling  stars,  as  they  are  ignorantly  termed^  or  fiery  balls 
of  various  sizes,  appear  with  splendour  during  the  glcem 
of  night,  and  astonish  mankind,  who  too  often  seem  willing 
with  superstitious  awe,  to  find  portentous  omens  of  dire 
calamities  in  those  curious  phenomena,  rather  than  inves- 
tigate their  causes,  or  discover  their  uses. 
.  To  account  for  these  various  appearances  in  a  satisfac- 


30 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNU W LEttiiK 


tory  manner,  it  is  plain  that  we  ougnt  to  have  an  intimato 
acquaintance  with  the  constitution  of  the  atmosphere  ; 
with  the  nature  of  those  powerful  agents  by  which  it 
appears  to  be  principally  influenced,  viz.  fire,  light,  and 
electric  fluid  ;  and  with  their  peculiar  modes  of  operation 
and  action  upon  one  another,  and  upon  the  atmosphere, 
and  this  in  every  possible  variety  of  circumstances.  Nor 
is  even  all  this  sufficient :  the  various  phenomena  of  rain, 
wind,  snow,  thunder,  heat,  cold,  &c.  are  known  to  depend 
very  much  upon  the  situation  of  different  places  on  the 
surface  of  the  earth  ;  and  their  occasional  variations  are, 
with  great  reason,  suspected  to  proceed,  partly  at  least, 
from  changes  which  take  place  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth  ; 
whence  we  ought  not  only  to  be  perfectly  well  acquainted 
with  geography,  but  with  mineralogy  also  ;  and  that  to 
an  extent  at  which  human  knowledge  will  probably  never 
arrive. 

In  a  subject  so  very  difficult,  it  is  not  to  be  supposed 
that  any  thing  like  a  certain  and  established  theory  can 
be  laid  down  in  this  elementary  work.  As  evaporation, 
however,  seems  to  be  particularly  concerned  in  the  produc- 
tion of  the  meteors,  we  shall  take  a  view  of  that  operation 
of  nature,  the  extent  of  which  we  have  noticed  in  the 
preceding  section.  This  process  may  be  reckoned  in  a 
particular  manner  the  effect  of  heat.  Upon  this  principle, 
vapour  is  shewn  to  be  a  compound  of  water  and  fire  ;  and 
such  it  is  supposed  to  be  by  philosophers  of  the  highest 
rank.  In  considering  this  operation,  however,  as  carried 
on  by  nature,  we  shall  soon  find,  that  it  proceeds  in  a  man- 
ner very  different  from  what  takes  place  in  our  chemical 
operations.  In  the  latter,  evaporation  is  merely  the  effect 
of  heat ;  and  the  process  cannot  go  on  without  a  consider- 
able degree  of  it.  In  the  natural  way,  on  the  contrary, 
the  process  goes  on  under  almost  every  degree  of  cold  we 
know ;  the  vapours  ascend  to  a  height  which  has  never 
yet  been  determined  ;  and,  from  the  extreme  cold  which 
they  sustain,  shew  evidently  that  they  are  connected  with 
our  atmosphere  by  means  of  some  other  agent  besides  heat. 
From  this  continual  ascent  of  vapour,  indeed,  if  the  opera- 
tions of  nature  were  of  the  same  kind  with  those  of  art, 
the  upper  parts  of  our  atmosphere  would  be  always  involv- 
ed in  a  fog,  by  reason  of  the  condensation  of  the  vast 
quantity  which  continually  ascends  thither  ;  but  so  far  is 


WORKS  OF  NATURE. 


31 


this  from  being  the  case,  that  in  those  elevated  regions  to 
which  the  vapours  continually  ascend,  the  air  is  much  drier 
than  at  the  surface  of  the  ground. 

From  many  experiments,  indeed,  it  is  evident,  that  water, 
*  after  being  reduced  into  a  state  of  vapour,  is  capable  of 
undergoing  a  certain  change,  by  which  it  lays  aside  its 
iluidity  entirely, and  even  to  appearance  its  specific  gravity: 
30  that  it  becomes,  as  far  as  we  can  judge,  a  substance 
totally  different  from  what  it  was  before.  After  water  has 
attained  to  this  state,  our  enquiries  concerning  it  must,  in 
a  great  measure,  cease  ;  but  as  it  is  not  in  the  immediate 
product  of  evaporation  that  rain  has  its  source,  and  as 
vapours  change  their  nature  in  the  atmosphere,  so  as  to  be 
ao  longer  sensible  to  the  hygrometer,  or  to  the  eye,  and  do 
not  become  vapour  again  till  clouds  appear,  we  must 
acknowledge  it  to  be  very  probable,  that  the  intermediate 
state  of  vapour,  is  no  other  than  air  ;  and  that  the  clouds 
do  not  proceed  from  any  distinct  fluid  in  the  atmosphere, 
but  from  a  decomposition  of  a  part  of  the  air  itself,  perfectly 
similar  to  the  rest. 

Granting  this  to  be  the  case,  and  we  can  scarcely  hope 
for  a  more  probable  conjecture  on  the  subject,  the  decom- 
position of  the  vapour  will  be  easily  accounted  for.— If  by 
any  natural  process  the  water  can  be  converted  into  air, 
and  if  the  latter  is  only  water  partially  decomposed  ;  then, 
by  an  inversion  of  the  process,  air  may  be  instanly  re-con- 
verted into  water,  and  will  become  visible  in  fog  or  mist,  or 
be  condensed  into  rain,  consisting  of  greater  or  smaller 
drops,  according  to  the  degree  to  which  this  inverted  process 
is  carried. 

It  is  generally  supposed  by  meteorologists,  from  all  the 
clouds,  fogs,  hail,  rain,  and  snow,  being  electrified,  that  the 
electric  fluid  is  the  agent  employed  in  the  formation  of 
these  meteors,  and  that  it  is  this  fluid  which  acts  in  the 
re-conversion  of  air  into  water.  This  process  may  be 
particularly  observed  in  the  summer  season,  when  the 
horizon  is  suddenly  overcast,  and  a  copious  torrent  of  rain 
ensues,  which  cannot  be  from  the  rising  of  any  aqueous 
vapours  at  the  time,  but  must  be  from  a  precipitation  of 
water  that  existed  in  an  invisible  state  in  the  atmosphere. 

Water  may  therefore  exist  in  air:  1st,  in  an  invisible 
state,  which  in  the  case  when  the  dissolving  power  of  air 
is  considerable  ;  2dly,  in  a  state  of  incipient  separation,  in 


32 


YOUNG  MAN?3  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


which  case  it  forms  clouds,  mists,  or  fogs ;  3dly  and  lastly, 
in  a  state  of  actual  separation,  in  which  case  it  forms  either 
rain,  properly  so  called,  or  snoio,  or  hail. 

Clmis  are  those  well-known  assemblages  of  vapours 
that  float  in  the  atmosphere  ;  have  different  degrees  of 
opacity,  which  arise  from  their  extent  and  density  ;  and 
generally  have  pretty  well  denned  boundaries  Their 
height  above  the  surface  of  the  earth  (we  mean  not  above 
the  mountains)  is  various,  but  hardly  ever  exceeds  a  mile, 
or  a  mile  and  a  half.  In  hot  weather  or  hot  climates,  the 
clouds,  being  more  rarefied,  are  lighter,  and  ascend  much 
higher  than  they  do  in  colder  climates,  or  colder  weather : 
and  indeed,  in  cold  weather,  the  clouds  frequently  touch 
the  very  surface  of  the  earth  ;  for  a  fog  may  with  propriety 
be  called  a  cloud  close  to  the  ground. 

A  mist  is  a  very  indefinite  word.  It  means  an  incipient 
formation  of  clouds,  or  haziness  ;  and  it  often  denotes  a 
very  small  rain,  or  a  deposition  of  water  in  particles  so  small 
as  not  to  be  visible  singly. 

The  snow  is  formed  when  the  atmosphere  is  so  cold  as  to 
freeze  the  particles  of  rain  as  soon  as  they  are  formed  ;  and 
the  adherence  of  several  of  those  particles  to  each  other, 
which  meet  and  cling  to  each  other  as  they  descend  through 
the  air,  forms  the  usual  fleeces  of  snow,  which  are  larger 
(since  they  are  longer  in  descending,  and  have  a-  greater 
opportunity  of  meeting)  when  the  clouds  are  higher  than 
when  they  are  lower. 

The  hail  differs  from  snow  in  its  consisting  of  much  more 
solid,  and  much  more  defined  pieces  of  congealed  water. 
It  is  supposed  that  the  water,  already  formed  into  consider- 
able drops,  is  driven  and  detained  a  considerable  time 
through  a  cold  region  of  the  atmosphere  by  the  wind, 
which  almost  always  accompanies  a  fall  of  hail.  But  the 
globes  of  ice,  or  hail-stones t  in  a  fall  of  hail,  sometimes  far 
exceed  the  usual  size  of  the  drops  of  rain  ;  which  shews 
that,  by  the  action  of  the  wind,  congealed  particles  must 
be  forced  to  adhere  to  each  other  ;  and,  in  fact,  though  the 
small  hail-stones  are  more  uniformly,  solid,  and  globular, 
the  large  ones  almost  always  consist  of  a  harder  nucleus, 
which  is  surrounded  by  a  softer  substance,  and  sometimes 
by  various  distinct  pieces  of  ice,  just  agglutinated.  Their 
shape  is  seldom  perfectly  globular. 

The  phenomena  of  dew  and  hoar-frost  seem  to  proceed 


WOJRKS  OF  NATURE. 


33 


from  a  quantity  of  aqueous  and  undecomposed  vapour 
which  always  exists  in  the  atmosphere,  and  which  being 
raised  by  mere  heat,  is  condensed  by  mere  cold,  without 
undergoing  that  process  by  which  water  is  changed  into  air. 

If  the  cold  be  very  intense,  hoar-frost  appears  instead  of 
dew,  which  is  nothing  more  than  the  dew  frozen  after  it 
falls  upon  the  ground,  in  the  same  manner  that  the  vapour 
in  a  warm  room  congeals  on  the  inside  of  the  windows  in 
a  frosty  night. 

Lightning  is  found  to  be  a  flash,  produced  by  the  elec- 
trical fluid  rushing  from  one  part  into  another  ;  and  thunder, 
the  sound  of  the  rushing  torrent,  reverberated  among  the 
clouds. — The  aurora  borealis,  or  northern  dawn,  is  likewise 
an  electrical  phenomenon.  It  is  a  lambent  or  flashing 
light,  seen  at  night  in  some  periods  more  often  than  in 
others,  especially  about  the  poles. — The  fiery  balls,  which 
are  seen  shooting  through  the  atmosphere  in  the  night,  of 
various  magnitudes  and  of  different  forms,  seem  all  to  rise 
from  inflammable  vapours,  taking  fire  from  their  ferment- 
ing, or  effervescing  in  the  air. 

The  rainbow  is  one  of  the  most  surprising  of  the  works 
of  God,  which  the  Hebrews  called  the  Bow  of  God,  and 
the  Greeks,  the  Daughter  of  Wonder.  This  phenomenon 
is  seen  in  the  falling  rain  or  dew,  and  not  in  the  cloud 
whence  that  rain  or  dew  proceeds  ;  it  is  caused  by  a  re- 
flection and  refraction  of  the  sun's  rays  from  the  globular 
particles  of  rain.  The  face  of  this  beautiful  iris,  or  bow, 
is  tinged  with  all  the  primogenial  colours  in  their  natural 
order :  viz.  violet,  indigo,  blue,  green,  yellow,  and  red. 
It  always  appears  in  that  part  of  the  heavens  opposite  the 
sun. 

The  halos  are  circles  somewhat  akin  to  the  rainbow, 
which  appear  about  the  sun  and  moon,  and  are  sometimes 
variously  coloured.  Tliey  never  appear  in  a  rainy  sky, 
but  in  a  rimy  and  frosty  one  ;  and  are  formed  by  the 
refraction  of  the  rays  of  light,  without  any  reflection,  as 
in  the  rain -bow. 

JSlock-suns  and  mock-moons  are  representations  of  the 
face  of  the  true  sun  and  moon,  by  reflection  in  the  clouds. 

The  wreight  and  pressure  of  the  atmospherical  air  have 
been  explained  in  the  preceding  section.  We  shall  now 
examine  the  particulars  relative  to  its  progressive  motion, 
which  we  denominate  wind. 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOS  OF  KNOWLEDGE, 


Wind  is  a  stream  or  current  of  air.  As  the  air  is  a  fluid, 
its  natural  state  is  that  of  rest,  which  it  endeavours  always 
to  keep,  or  retrieve  by  an  universal  equilibrium  of  all  its 
parts.  When,  therefore,  this  natural  equilibrium  of  the 
atmosphere  happens  by  any  means  to  be  destroyed  in  any 
part,  there  necessarily  follows  a  motion  of  all  the  circum- 
jacent air  towards  the  part,  to  restore  it :  and  this  motion 
of  the  air  is  what  we  call  wind. 

Hence,  with  respect  to  the  place  where  the  equilibrium 
of  the  air  is  disturbed,  we  see  the  wind  may  blow  from 
every  point  of  the  compass  at  the  same  time  ;  and  those 
who  live  northwards  of  that  point  have  a  north  wind  j 
those  who  live  southwards,  a  south  wind  ;  and  so  of  the 
rest  :  but  those  who  live  on  the  spot  wherfe  all  these  winds 
meet  and  interfere,  are  oppressed  with  turbulent  and  bois- 
terous weather,  whirlwinds,  and  hurricanes  ;  with  rain, 
tempest,  lightning,  thunder,  &c. 

Many  are  the  particular  causes  which  produce  wind  by 
interrupting  the  equipoise  of  the  atmosphere  ;  but  the 
most  general  causes  are  two,  viz.  heat,  which,  by  rarefying 
the  air,  makes  it  lighter  in  some  places  than  it  is  in 
others;  and  cold,  which,  by  condensing  it,  makes  it  heavier, 
Hence  it  is,  that  in  all  parts  over  the  torrid  zone,  the  air, 
being  more  rarefied  by  a  greater  quantity  of  the  solar  rays, 
is  much  lighter  than  in  the  other  parts  of  the  atmosphere, 
and,  most  of  all,  over  the  equatorial  parts  of  the  earth. 
And  since  the  parts  at  the  equator  are  most  rarefied  which 
are  near  the  sun  ;  and  those  parts  are,  by  the  earth's 
diurnal  rotation  eastward,  continually  shifting  to  the  west; 
it  follows,  that  the  parts  of  the  air  which  lie  on  the  west 
side  of  the  point  of  greatest  rarefaction,  and,  by  flowing 
towards  it,  meet  it,  have  less  motion,  than  those  parts  on 
the  east  of  the  said  point,  which  follow  it  ;  and  therefore 
the  motion  of  the  eastern  air  would  prevail  against  that 
of  the  western  air,  and  so  generate  a  continual  east  wind, 
if  this  were  all  the  effect  of  that  rarefac:ion.  But  we  are 
to  consider,  that  as  all  the  parts  of  the  atmosphere  are  so 
greatly  rarefied  over  the  equator,  and  all  about  the  poles 
greatly  condensed  by  extreme  cold,  this  heavier  air  from 
either  pole  is  constantly  flowing  towards  the  equator,  to 
restore  the  balance  destroyed  by  the  rarefaction  and  levity 
of  the  air  over  those  regions  ;  hence,  in  this  respect  alone, 
a  constant  north  and  south  wind  would  be  generated. 


WORKS  OF  NATURE. 


3d 


Now  it  is  easy  to  understand,  that,  by  a  composition  of 
these  two  directions  of  the  air  from  the  east  and  north,  a 
constant  north-east  wind  will  bp  generated  in  the  northern 
hemisphere,  and  a  constant  south-east  wind  in  the  southern 
hemisphere,  to  a  certain  distance  on  each  side  the  equator, 
all  round  the  earth.  And  this  case  we  find  to  be  verified 
in  the  general  trade  loinds^  which  constanly  blow  from  the 
north-east  and  south-east,  to  about  thirty  degrees  on  each 
side  the  equator,  where  those  parts  are  over  the  open  ocean, 
and  not  affected  w7ith  the  reflection  of  the  sun-beams 
from  the  heated  surface  of  the  land;  for  in  this  case  the 
wind  will  always  set  in  upon  the  land,  as  on  the  coast  of 
Guinea,  and  other  parts  of  the  torrid  zone,  we  know  it  does, 

The  temperature  of  a  country,  with  respect  to  heat  or 
cold,  is  increased  or  diminished  by  winds,  according  as 
thejr  come  from  hotter,  or  colder  parts  of  the  wTorld.  The 
north  and  north-easterly  winds,  in  England  and  all  the 
western  parts  of  Europe,  *are  reckoned  cold  and  drying 
winds.  They  are  cold,  because  they  come  from  the  frozen 
region  of  the  north  pole,  or  over  a  great  tract  of  cold 
land.  Their  drying  quality  is  derived  from  their  coming 
principally  over  land,  and  from  a  well-known  property  of 
the  air,  namely,  that  warm  air  can  dissolve,  and  keep 
dissolved,  a  greater  quantity  of  water  than  colder  air:  hence 
the  air  which  comes  from  colder  regions,  being  heated 
over  warmer  countries,  becomes  a  better  solvent  of  mois- 
ture, and  dries  up  with  greater  energy  the  moist  bodies  it 
comes  in  contact  with  ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  warm  air 
coming  into  a  colder  region  deposits  a  quantity  of  the 
water  it  kept  in  solution,  and  occasions  mists,  fogs,  clouds, 
rains,  &c. 

In  warm  countries  sometimes  the  winds,  which  blow 
over  a  great  tract  of  highly  heated  land,  become  so  very 
drying,  scorching,  and  suffocating,  as  to  produce  dreadful 
effects.  These  winds,  under  the  name  of  solanos,  are 
often  felt  in  the  deserts  of  Arabia,  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
the  Persian  gulph,  in  the  interior  of  Africa,  and  in  some 
other  places.  There  are  likewise  in  India,  part  of  China, 
part  of  Africa,  and  elsewhere,  other  winds,  which  deposit 
so  much  warm  moisture  as  to  soften,  and  actually  to 
dissolve  glue,  salts,  and  almost  every  article  which  is 
soluble  in  water. 

It  is  impossible  to  give  any  adequate  account  of  irregu- 


36  YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE, 

lar  winds,  especially  of  those  sudden  and  violent  gusts  as 
come  on  at  very  irregular  periods,  and  generally  continue 
for  a  short  time.  They  sometimes  spread  over  an  extensive 
tract  of  country,  and  at  other  times  are  confined  within  a 
remarkably  narrow  space.  Their  causes  are  by  no  means 
rightly  understood,  though  they  have  been  vaguely  attri- 
buted to  peculiar  rarefactions,  to  the  combined  attractions 
of  the  sun  and  moon,  to  earthquakes,  to  electricity,  &c. 
They  are  called,  in  general,  hurricanes,  or  they  are  the 
principal  phenomenon  of  a  hurricane,  that  is,  of  a  violent 
storm. 

Almost  every  one  of  those  violent  winds  is  attended 
with  particular  phenomena,  such  as  draughts,  or  heavy 
rains,  or  hail,  or  snow,  or  thunder  and  lightning,  or  several 
of  those  phenomena  at  once.  They  frequently  shift 
suddenly  from  one  quarter  of  the  horizon  to  another,  and 
then  come  again  to  the  former  point.  In  this  case  they 
are  called  tornadoes. 

In  some  parts  of  the  Indian  ocean,  there  are  winds 
which  blow  one  way  during  one  half  of  the  year,  and  then 
blow  the  contrary  way  during  the  other  half  of  the  year. 
These  winds  are  called  monsoons,  and  owe  their  origin  to 
causes  similar  to  what  have  been  pointed  out. 

When  the  gusts  of  wind  come  from  different  quarters  at 
the  same  time,  and  meet  in  a  certain  place,  there  the  air 
acquires  a  circular,  or  rotatory,  or  screw-like  motion, 
either  ascending  or  descending,  as  it  were,  round  an  axis  : 
and  this  axis  sometimes  is  stationary,  and  at  other  times 
moves  on  in  a  particular  direction.  This  phenomenon, 
which  is  called  a  whirlwind,  gives  a  whirling  motion  to 
dust,  sand,  water,  part  of  a  cloud,  and  sometimes  even  to 
bodies  of  great  weight  and  bulk,  carrying  them  either 
upwards  or  downwards,  and  lastly  scatters  them  about  in 
different  directions. 

The  water-spout  has  been  attributed  principally,  if  not 
entirely,  to  the  meeting  of  different  winds.  In  that  case, 
the  air  in  its  rotation  acquires  a  centrifugal  motion  ; 
whence  it  endeavours  to  recede  from  the  axis  of  the  whirl ; 
in  consequence  of  which  a  vacuum,  or  at  least  a  consider- 
able rarefaction  of  air,  takes  place  about  the  axis,  and, 
when  the  whirl  takes  place  at  sea,  or  upon  water,  the 
water  rises  into  that  rarefied  place  ;  for  the  same  reason 
which  causes  it  to  ascend  into  the  exhausted  tube,  and 


WORKS  OF  NATURE. 


forms  the  water  spout,  or  pillar  of  water,  in  the  air,  The 
water  spouts  generally  break  about  their  middle,  and  the 
falling*  waters  occasion  great  damage,  either  to  ships  that 
have  the  misfortune  of  being  under  them,  or  to  the 
adjoining  land;  for  such  spouts  are  sometimes  formed  on 
a  lake  or  river,  or  on  the  sea  close  to  the  land. 

As  the  motion  of  the  air  has  a  greater  or  lesser  velocity, 
the  wind  is  stronger  or  weaker  ;  and  it  is  found  from 
observation,  that  the  velocity  of  the  wind  is  various,  from 
the  rate  of  1  to  100  miles  per  hour. 

The  following  particulars  respecting  the  velocity,  &c. 
of  the  wind,  are  extracted  from  a  table  which  appeared  in 
the  51st  volume  of  the  Philosophical  Transactions,  by  Mr. 
J.  Smeaton,  the  celebrated  engineer. 

When  the  velocity  of  the  wind  is  one  mile  per  hour,  it 
is  hardly  perceptible. 

From   2  to  3,  just  perceptible. 

4—5,  gentle,  pleasant  wind,  or  breezes. 
10  — 15,  pleasant,  brisk  gale. 
20  —25,  very  brisk. 
30  — 35,  high  winds. 
40  — 45,  very  high. 
50  miles  per  hour,  a  storm  or  tempest. 
60     .      .      ,    a  great  storm. 
80     ...     a  hurricane. 


The  winds  are  of  immense  and  indispensable  use. 
Besides  their  more  obvious  effects  in  driving  of  ships, 
windmills,  &c.  they  preserve,  by  mixing,  the  necessary 
purity  of  the  air.  The  winds  likewise  drive  away  vapours, 
clouds,  fogs,  and  mists,  from  those  parts  in  which  they 
are  copiously  formed,  to  others  which  are  in  want  of 
moisture  ;  and  thus  the  whole  surface  of  the  earth  is 
supplied  with  water.  It  is  the  winds  that  diminish  the  heat, 
and  augment  the  moisture  of  the  torrid  zone  ;  and  produce 
contrary  effects  on  those  of  the  polar  regions  ;  so  as  to 
render  those  districts  of  the  globe,  which  the  ancients 
deemed  totally  unfit  for  the  abode  of  man,  and  other 
animals,  by  reason  of  excessive  heat,  not  only  habitable 


100 


a  hurricane,  that  tears  up  trees, 
carries  buildings  before  it,  &c. 


young  man's  book  of  knowledge. 


but  salutary  and  pleasing  to  man  and  beast,  and  yielding 

great  variety  and  abundance  of  the  choice  productions  of 
nature. 


Sect.  Ill — Of  Springs,  Rivers,  and  the  Sea, 

Having  viewed  water  as  it  takes  its  departure  from  the 
bosom  of  the  deep,  and  forms  the  watery  meteors,  we  shall 
now  survey  it  as  it  rises  in  the  salient  spring,  and  gives 
birth  to  the  gurgling  rill,  or  uniting,  gives  coolness  to  the 
landscape  in  the  magnificent  stream,  that  in  its  ample 
range  fertilizes  its  neighbourhood. 

Various  have  been  the  theories,  or  rather  hypotheses, 
relating  to  the  origin  of  springs  :  but  it  seems  the  general 
opinion  of  those  who  have  made  this  branch  of  natural 
philosophy  their  study,  that  the  true  principles  which 
supply  the  waters  of  fountains  or  springs,  are  melted  snow, 
rain  water,  and  condensed  vapours. 

The  prodigious  quantity  of  vapours  raised  by  the  sun's 
heat,  and  otherwise,  being  carried  by  the  winds  over  the 
low  lands  to  the  very  ridges  of  mountains,  as  the  Pyre- 
nean,  the  Alps,  the  Apennine,  the  Carpathian,  in  Europe  ; 
the  Taurus.,  the  Caucasus,  Imaus,  and  others,  in  Asia  ; 
Atlas,  the  Montes  Lunse,  or  mountains  of  the  moon,  with 
other  unknown  ridges  in  Africa  ;  the  vapours  being  com- 
pelled by  the  stream  of  air  to  mount  up  with  it  to  the  top 
of  those  mountains,  where  the  air  becoming  too  light  to 
sustain  them,  and  condensed  by  cold,  they  strike  against 
their  summits,  which  causes  an  union  of  their  particles, 
and  are  precipitated  in  water,  which  gleets  down  by  the 
crannies  of  the  stone,  and  entering  into  the  caverns  of  the 
hills,  gathers,  as  in  an  alembic,  into  the  basons  of  stone  it 
finds,  which  being  once  filled,  all  the  overplus  of  water 
that  comes  thither,  runs  over  by  the  lowest  places,  and 
breaking  out  by  the  sides  of  the  hills,  forms  single  springs. 

Many  of  these  springs  running  down  by  the  values, 
between  the  ridges  of  the  hills,  and  coming  to  unite,  form 
little  rivulets,  or  brooks  ;  many  of  these  again  meeting  in 
one  common  valley,  and  gaining  the  plain  ground,  being 
grown  less  rapid,  become  a  river ;  and  many  of  these  being 
united  in  one  common  channel,  make  such  enormous 
sti earns  as  the  Rhine,  the  Rhone,  and  the  Danube.  And 


WORKS  OF  NATURE. 


by 


it  may  always  pass  for  a  rule,  that  the  magnitude  of  a 
river,  or  the  quantity  of  water  it  discharges,  is  proportional 
to  the  length  and  heights  of  these  very  ridges  from  whence 
the  fountains  arise. 
g  The  several  sorts  of  springs  observed,  are  common 
springs which  either  run  continually,  and  then  they  are 
called  perennial  springs  ;  or  else  run  only  for  a  time,  or 
at  certain  times  of  the  year,  and  then  they  are  called 
temporary  springs.  Intermitting  springs ,  or  such  as  flow 
and  then  stop,  and  flow  and  stop  again,  by  regular  alter- 
nations or  intermissions.  Reciprocating  springs,  whose 
waters  rise  and  fall,  or  flow  and  ebb,  by  regular  intervals, 
or  reciprocations  of  the  surface. 

If  these  reservoirs  of  water,  in  the  bodies  of  mountains, 
be  situated  where  mineral  ores  abound,  or  the  ducts  or 
feeding  streams  run  through  mineral  earth,  it  is  easy  to 
conceive  the  particles  of  metal  will  mix  with,  and  be 
absorbed  by  the  water,  which,  being  saturated  therewith, 
becomes  a  mineral  spring  or  well.  If  salt,  sulphur,  and 
lime-stone  abound  in  the  strata  through  which  the  water 
passes,  it  will  then  be  saline,  sulphureous,  and  lime-water. 
If  sulphur  and  iron  should  both  abound  in  the  parts  of  the 
hill  whence  the  waters  come,  the  waters  will  partake  of 
the  warmth  or  heat  which  is  occasioned  by  the  mixture  of 
two  such  substances  in  the  earth  where  they  are  found. 

Having  noticed  the  different  kinds  of  springs,  we  shall 
say  a  few  words  respecting  the  various  phenomena,  which 
take  place  in  rivers. 

A  large  collection  of  water  which  runs  in  consequence 
of  its  gravity  from  a  higher  to  a  lower  part  of  the  surface 
of  the  earth,  in  a  channel  generally  open  at  top,  is  called  a 
river. 

A  river  which  flows  uniformly,  and  preserves  the  same 
height  in  the  same  place,  is  said  to  be  in  a  permanent 
state  ;  such  rivers  are  very  rare. 

The  water  of  a  river  does  not  flow  with  the  same  velo- 
city through  the  whole  width  of  the  river.  The  line  in 
which  the  water  moves  with  the  greatest  velocity  is  called 
the  thread  of  the  river  ;  and  this  thread  seldom  lies  in  the 
middle  of  the  river,  but  it  generally  comes  nearer  to  one 
side  than  the  other,  according  to  the  nature  of  the  impedi- 
ments, and  ihg  configuration  of  the  banks.  The  velocity 
of  rivers  is  likewise  less  at  the  bottom  of  their  channels 


40 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


than  at  the  surface,  owing  to  the  resistance  which  the 
bed  makes  to  the  water  as  it  flows. 

The  running  of  rivers  is  upon  the  same  principle  as  the 
descent  of  bodies  on  inclined  planes  ;  for  water  no  more 
than  a  solid  can  move  on  a  horizontal  plane,  the  re-action^ 
of  such  a  plane  being  equal  and  contrary  to  gravity, 
entirely  destroys  it,  and  leaves  the  body  at  rest  ;  here  we 
spsak  of  a  plane  of  small  extent,  and  such  as  coincides 
with  the  curved  surface  of  the  earth.  But  if  we  consider 
a  large  extent  or  long  course  of  water,  then  we  shall  find 
that  such  water  can  never  be  at  rest  but  when  the  bottom 
of  the  channel  coincides  everywhere  with  the  curved 
surface  of  the  earth.  In  rivers  that  are  made,  it  is  usual 
to  allow  the  fall  of  1  foot  in  300,  but  the  declivity  of  those 
formed  by  nature,  is  various  and  uncertain., 

The  velocity  of  the  water  of  a  river  ought  to  increase 
in  proportion  as  it  recedes  from  its  source  :  but  the 
numerous  causes  of  retardation,  which  occur  in  rivers,  are 
productive  of  very  great  irregularities  ;  and  it  is  impos- 
sible to  form  any  general  rules  for  determining  such 
irregularities. 

The  unequal  quantities  of  water  (arising  from  rains, 
from  the  melting  of  snow,  &c.)  which  are  conveyed  by 
rivers  at  different  seasons,  enlarge  or  contract  their  widths, 
render  them  more  or  less  rapid,  and  change  more  or  less  the 
form  of  their  beds.  But  independent  of  this,  the  size  and 
form  of  a  river  is  liable  to  be  continually  altered  by  the 
usual  flowing  of  its  waters,  and  hy  local  peculiarities. 
The  water  constantly  corrodes  its  bed  wherever  it  runs 
with  considerable  velocity,  and  rubs  off  the  san^  or  other 
not  very  coherent  parts.  The  corrosion  inmost1  remark- 
able in  that  part  of  the  bottom,  which  is  under  the  thread 
of  the  river,  or  where  the  water  descends  suddenly  from 
an  eminence,  as  in  a  cascade  ox  ivater-f  all  Tpe^sand  thus 
raised  is  deposited  in  places  where  the  wajfr  'slacks  its 
velocity  ;  and  there,  by  degrees,  an  obstaelef  a  bank,  and 
even  an  island,  is  formed,  which  in  its  turn-  produces  other 
changes.  Thus  a  river  sometimes  forms  /itself  a  new  bed, 
or  it  overflows  the  adjacent  grounds.  '  1 

In  some  places  we  find  that  an  obstacle,  or  a  bent  on 
one  side,  will  occasion  a  corrosion  on  the  opposite  bank,  by 
directing  the  impetus-  of  the  stream  towards  that  bank. 
Thus,  from  divers  causes,  whose  concurrence  indifferent 


WORKS  OF  NATURE. 


4J 


proportions,  and  at  different  times,  forms  an  infinite  variety, 
the  velocity  of  rivers  is  never  steady  or  uniform. 

The  following  curious  calculation  respecting  the  river 
Thame?,  was  made  by  Dr.  Halley.  In  order  to  estimate 
t-hi>  quantity  of  water,  which  passes  daily  through  the 
Thames,  the  Doctor  assumes  the  breadth  of  the  river  at 
Kingston  bridge  (where  the  flood  seldom  reaches)  to  be 
100  yards,  and  the  depth  3:  so  that  the  section  of  the 
channel  is  300  square  yards,  and  allowing  the  velocity  of 
the  water  to  be  at  the  rate  of  2  miles  per  hour,  there  will 
run  in  24  hours,  the  length  of  48  miles,  or  84,480  yards  ; 
therefore  84,480-1-300=25,344,000  cubic  yards,  which 
make  203,000,000  tons  which  the  river  Thames  yields  per 
diem. 

The  proportional  lengths,  of  course,  of  some  of  the 
most  noted  rivers  in  the  world,  are  shewn  nearly  by  the 
following  numbers,  extracted  from  Mr.  Kennel's  paper,71st 
volume  of  Philosophical  Transactions. 

European  Rivers. 


Thames  1 

Rhine  5-j. 

Danube    7 

Wolga  9£ 

Asiatic  Rivers. 

Indus  5J- 

Euphrates  Si- 
Ganges   g£ 

Burrarnpooter  .  .  .  ,  .  .  .  9^ 
Non  Kian,  or  Ava  River      ....    9  , 

Jennisea   10 

Oby   10i 

Amoor   \\f 

Lena   n? 

Hoanho  (of  China)   13* 

Kian  Keu  (of  ditto)   15* 


African  Rivers. 


42 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


American  Rivers. 


Mississippi 
Amazons 


8 

15? 


When  we  reflect  on  the  immense  length  of  these  rivera, 
and  their  origin,  we  are  naturally  directed  to  the  contem- 
plation of  the  round  which  water  travels  ;  and  by  which, 
without  suffering  adulteration  or  waste,  it  is  continually 
offering  itself  to  the  wants  of  the  habitable  globe.  From 
the  sea  are  exhaled  those  vapours  which  form  the  clouds  ; 
these  clouds  descend  in  refreshing  showers  of  rain,  which 
sinking  deep  into  the  earth,  form  springs,  and  springs 
uniting,  form  rivers,  which  rivers  in  return  feed  the  ocean. 
So  there  is  an  incessant  circulation  of  the  same  fluid  ;  and 
not  one  drop  probably  more  or  less  now  than  there  was  at 
the  creation.  In  fact,  "  look  nature  through,  'tis  revolution 
all  j"  wherever  wTe  turn  our  eyes,  all  seems  continually  in 
a  state  of  change  or  circulation.  11  The  sun,"  saith  Solo- 
mon, 11  arisetn,  and  the  sun  goeth  down,  and  pants  for  the 
place  from  whence  he  arose;  all  rivers  run  into  the  sea, 
yet  the  sea  is  not  full  ;  unto  the  place  from  whence  the 
rivers  came,  thither  they  return  again." 

The  sea  is  a  vast  collection  of  waters  in  the  deep  and 
unfathomable  valleys  of  the  earth.  This  great  abyss 
occupies  nearly  three-quarters  of  the  w7hole  surface  of  our 
globe  ;  which  has  been  thought  by  some  too  great  a  pro- 
portion ;  but  it  is  probable  no  more  than  sufficient  to 
fertilize  the  land. 

The  saltness  of  the  sea  is  a  property  in  that  element, 
which  appears  to  have  excited  the  curiosity  of  naturalists 
in  all  ages.  This  property  is  very  rationally  judged  to 
arise  from  great  multitudes  both  of  mines  and  mountains 
of  salt,  dispersed  here  and  there  in  the  depths  of  the  sea  ; 
the  salt  being  continually  diluted  and  dissolved  by  the 
waters,  the  sea  becomes  impregnated  with  its  particles 
throughout ;  and,  for  this  reason,  the  saltness  of  the  sea 
can  never  be  diminished. 

The  saltness  of  the  sea  preserves  its  wraters  pure  and 
sweet,  which  otherwise  would  corrupt  and  stink  like  a 
filthy  lake,  and  consequently  none  of  the  myriads  of  crea- 
tures which  now  live  therein,  could  then  have  being  ;  from 


WORKS  OF  NATURE. 


4S 


hence,  also,  the  sea  water  becomes  much  heavier  ;  and, 
therefore  ships  of  greater  size  and  quantity  may  be  used 
thereon.  Salt  water  also  doth  not  freeze  as  soon  as  fresh 
water,  whence  the  seas  are  more  free  for  navigation. 

The  most  remarkable  thing  in  the  sea,  is  that  motion  of 
the  water  called  tides.  It  is  a  rising  and  falling  of  the 
water  of  the  sea.  The  cause  of  this  is  the  attraction  of 
the  moon,  whereby  the  part  of  the  water  in  the  great 
ocean,  which  is  nearest  the  moon,  being  most  strongly 
attracted,  is  raised  higher  than  the  rest  ;  and  the  part 
opposite  to  it,  on  the  contrary  side,  being  lenst  attracted, 
is  also  higher  than  the  rest.  And  these  two  opposite  rises 
of  the  surface  of  the  water  in  the  great  ocean,  following 
the  motion  of  the  moon  from  east  to  west,  and  striking 
against  the  large  coasts  of  the  continents  that  lie  in  its 
way,  from  thence  rebounds  back  again,  and  so  makes 
floods  and  ebbs  in  narrow  seas,  and  rivers  remote  from  the 
great  ocean. 

As  the  earth,  by  its  daily  rotation  round  its  axis,  goes 
from  the  moon  to  the  moon  again,  (or  the  moon  appears 
to  move  round  the  earth  from  a  given  meridian  to  the  same 
again,)  in  about  24  hours,  hence  in  that  period  there  are 
two  tides  of  flood,  and  two  of  ebb,  and  this  alternate  ebb- 
ing and  flowing  continues  without  intermission.  For 
instance,  if  the  tide  be  now  high  water  mark,  in  any  port, 
or  harbour,  which  lies  open  to  the  ocean,  it  will  presently 
subside,  and  flow  regularly  back,  for  about  six  hours, 
when  it  will  be  found  at  low  water-mark.  After  this,  it 
will  again  gradually  advance  for  six  hours,  and  then 
return  back,  in  the  same  time,  to  its  former  situation  ;  rising 
and  falling  alternately,  twice  a- day,  or  in  the  space  of 
about  twenty-four  hours.  " 

The  interval  between  its  flux  and  reflux  is,  however, 
not  precisely  six  hours,  but  about  eleven  minutes  more  : 
so  that  the  time  of  high  water  does  not  always  happen  at 
the  same  hour,  but  is  about  three  quarters  of  an  hour  later 
every  day,  for  thirty  days  ;  when  it  again  recurs  as  before. 
For  example,  if  it  be  high  water  at  any  place  to-day  at 
noon,  it  will  be  low  water  at  eleven  minutes  after  six  in 
the  evening  ;  and  consequently,  after  two  changes  more, 
the  time  of  high  water  the  next  day  will  be  about  three 
quarters  of  an  hour  afternoon  ;  the  day  following  it  will 
be  at  about  half  an  hour  after  one  ;  the  day  after  that  at 


44 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


a  quarter  past  two  ;  and  so  on  for  thirty  days  ;  when  it 
will  again  be  found  to  be  high  water  at  noon,  the  same  as 
on  the  day  the  observation  was  first  made.  And  this 
exactly  answers  to  the  motion  of  the  moon  ;  she  vises  every 
day  about  three  quarters  of  an  hour  later  than  upon  the 
preceding  one  ;  and,  by  moving  in  this  manner  round  the 
earth,  completes  her  revolution  in  about  thirty  days,  and 
then  begins  to  rise  again  at  the  same  time  as  before. 

To  make  the  matter  still  plainer  :  suppose,  at  a  certain 
place,  it  is  high  water  at  about  three  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon upon  the  day  of  the  new  moon  ;  the  following  day  it 
will  be  high  water  at  about  three  quarters  of  an  hour  after 
three  ;  the  day  after  that  at  about  half  an  hour  past  four, 
and  so  on,  till  the  next  new  moon  ;  when  it  will  again  be 
high  water  about  three  o'clock,  the  same  as  before.  And 
by  observing  the  tides  continually  at  the  same  place,  they 
will  always  be  found  to  follow  the  same  rule  ;  the  time  of 
high  water,  upon  the  day  of  every  new  moon,  being  nearly 
at  the  same  hour  ;  and  three  quarters  of  an  hour  later 
every  succeeding  day. 

The  attraction  of  the  sun  also  produces  a  similar  rising 
and  falling  of  the  water  of  the  ocean  ;  but,  on  account  of 
its  distance,  not  near  so  considerable  as  that  which  is 
produced  by  the  moon.  It  will  be  readily  understood, 
that  according  to  the  different  situations  of  the  sun  and 
the  moon,  the  tides  which  are  raised  by  their  respective 
attraction,  will  either  conspire  with,  or  counteract  each 
other,  in  a  greater  or  lesser  degree.  When  they  conspire 
together,  the  tides  rise  higher,  and  their  mutual  action 
produces  what  are  called  spring  tides.  On  the  contrary, 
when  they  counteract  each  other,  they  produce  neap  tides. 

From  a  slight  consideration  of  what  has  been  said,  we 
might  be  led  to  imagine,  that  the  time  of  high  water  at 
any  place,  would  be  when  the  moon  is  over  the  meridian 
of  that  place.  But  this  is  by  no  means  the  case  ;  it  being 
usually  about  three  hours  afterwards  ;  the  reason  of  which 
may  be  shown  as  follows:  The  moon,  when  she  is  on  the 
meridian,  or  nearest  to  the  zenith  of  any  place,  tends  to 
raise  the  waters  at  that  place ;  but  this  force  must  evi- 
dently be  exerted  for  a  considerable  time,  before  the 
greatest  elevation  will  take  place  ;  for,  if  the  moon's 
attraction  were  to  cease  altogether,  when  she  has  passed 
the  meridian,  yet  the  motion  already  communicated  to  the 


WORKS  OF  NATURE. 


45 


waters,  would  make  them  continue  to  ascend  for  some 
time  afterwards ;  and,  therefore,  they  must  be  much  more 
disposed  to  ascend,  when  the  attractive  force  is  only  in  a 
small  measure  diminished. 

The  waves  of  the  sea,  which  continue  after  a  storm  has 
ceased,  and  almost  every  other  motion  of  a  fluid,  will 
illustrate  this  idea  ;  all  such  effects  being  easily  explained, 
from  the  consideration  that  a  small  impulse  given  to  a  body 
in  motion,  will  make  it  move  farther  than  it  would  other- 
wise have  done.  It  is  also,  upon  the  same  principle,  that 
the  heat  is  not  the  greatest  upon  the  longest  day,  but  some 
time  afterwards  ;  and  that  it  is  not  so  hot  at  twelve  o'clock 
as  at  two  or  three  in  the  afternoon  ;  because  there  is  a 
farther  increase  made  to  the  heat  already  imparted.  In- 
stead of  its  being  higher  then,  when  the  moon  is  upon  the 
meridian  of  any  place,  it  will  always  be  found  to  happen, 
as  far  as  circumstances  will  allow,  about  three  hours  after- 
wards ;  and  the  intervals  between  the  flux  and  reflux, 
must  be  reckoned  from  that  time,  in  the  same  manner  as 
before. 

The  sun  being  nearer  the  earth  in  winter  than  in  sum- 
mer, is  nearer  to  it  in  February  and  October  than  in  March 
and  September  ;  and,  therefore,  the  greatest  tides  happen 
not  till  some  time  after  the  autumnal  equinox,  and  return 
a  little  before  the  vernal. 

The  tide  propagated  by  the  moon  in  the  German  ocean, 
when  she  is  three  hours  past  the  meridian,  takes  twelve 
hours  to  come  from  thence  to  London  bridge :  wrhere  it 
arrives  by  the  time  that  a  new  tide  is  raised  in  the  ocean. 

These  are  the  principal  phenomena  of  the  tides  ;  and, 
where  no  local  circumstances  interfere,  the  theory  and 
facts  will  be  found  to  agree.  But  it  must,  be  observed, 
that  what  has  been  here  said,  relates  only  to  such  places 
as  lie  open  to  large  oceans.  In  seas  and  channels,  which 
are  more  confined,  a  number  of  causes  occur,  which  occa- 
sion considerable  deviations  from  the  general  rule.  Thus, 
it  is  high  water  at  Plymouth  about  the  sixth  hour :  at  the 
Isle  of  Wight  about  the  ninth  hour  ;  and  at  London  bridge 
about  the  fifteenth  hour,  after  the  moon  has  passed  the 
meridian.  And  at  Batsha,  in  the  kingdom  of  Tonquin,  the 
sea  ebbs  and  flows  but  once  a  day ;  the  time  of  high  water 
being  at  the  setting  of  the  moon,  and  the  time  of  low  water 
at  her  rising.    There  are,  also,  great  variations  in  the 


46 


YOUNG  MAN5S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


height  of  tides,  according  to  the  situation  of  coasts,  or  the 
nature  of  the  straits  which  they  have  to  pass  through.-— 
Thus,  the  Mediterranean  and  Baltic  seas  have  very  small 
elevations ;  while,  at  the  port  of  Bristol,  the  height  is 
sometimes  near  thirty  feet  j  and,  at  St.  Malo's,  it  is  said  to 
be  still  greater. 


Sect  IV. —  Of  Earths)  Stones,  Metals  ^  Minerals ,  and  othet 
Fossils. 

Those  who  observe  the  disposition  of  the  earth,  as  it 
appears  in  the  quarrying  or  digging  of  mines,  find  it 
generally  lying  in  horizontal  layers,  or  strata  of  different 
kinds,  like  the  settling  of  waters.  The  first  layer  that 
presents  itself,  is  most  commonly  the  bed  of  vegetable 
earth  or  mould.  With  this  earth  the  surface  of  our  globe 
is  generally  covered.  It  is  this  mould  which  gives  rooting 
and  nourishment  to  plants,  so  that  they  may  stand  and 
grow  in  it,  and  it  is,  as  it  were,  the  store-house  from  whence 
all  the  living  creatures  of  our  world  have  originally  their 
provisions  ;  for  from  thence  all  the  plants  have  their  sus- 
tenance, and  some  few  animals,  and  from  these  all  other 
animals. 

As  this  affords  to  animals  and  vegetables  their  support, 
so  the  spoils  of  these,  when  dead  or  decayed,  return  to  the 
dust  of  the  ground,  from  whence  they  were  formed,  and 
thus  keep  up  an  unceasing  circulation. 

The  most  common  disposition  of  the  layers  is,  that 
tinder  the  first  earth  is  found  gravel  or  sand ;  clay  or  marl ; 
then  chalk,  or  coal,  marbles,  ores,  &c.  This  disposition, 
however,  is  far  from  being  uniformly  continued  all  over  the 
globe  :  in  different  soils  the  order  of  these  layers  vary. 

It  is  wonderful  the  variety  of  productions  which  are 
found  in  the  different  parts  of  our  globe.  In  the  crum- 
bling chalk,  the  solid  marble,  the  dusty  gravel,  and  even 
the  depths  of  the  most  inland  valleys,  and  on  the  summits 
of  the  highest  mountains,  we  behold  the  spoils  of  the  ocean, 
exhibited  under  the  several  appearances  of  petrified  fish, 
beds  of  shells,  and  sea  plants.  The  Alps,  the  Appenines, 
the  Pyrenees,  Libanus,  Atlas,  and  Ararat,  every  mountain 
of  every  country  under  heaven,  where  search  has  been 
made,  all  conspire  in  one  uniform  and  universal  proof,  that 


works  of  nature;. 


4? 


the  sea  has  covered  their  highest  summits.  If  we  examine 
the  earth,  we  shall  find  the  mouse  deer,  natives  of  America, 
buried  in  Ireland  ;  elephants,  natives  of  Asia  and  Africa, 
buried  in  the  midst  of  England ;  crocodiles,  natives  of  the 
Nile,  in  the  heart  of  Germany  ;  shell- fish,  never  known 
but  in  the  American  seas,  together  with  skeletons  of 
whales,  in  the  most  inland  regions  of  England  ;  trees  of 
vast  dimensions,  with  their  roots  and  tops  at  the  bottom  of 
mines,  and  marl  found  in  regions,  where  such  trees  were 
never  known  to  grow,  nay,  where  it  is  demonstrably  im- 
possible they  could  grow.  Such  are  the  awful  memorials 
of  the  great  convulsions  and  revolutions  which  have  taken 
place  in  the  natural  world ;  of  countries  laid  under  the 
rolling  waves  of  the  ocean :  and  of  lands  rising  from  the 
midst  of  the  waters,  and  becoming  the  habitations  of  beasts 
and  of  men ;  so  transient  and  uncertain  are  all  earthly 
things. 

The  various  bodies  which  are  found  by  digging  in  the 
earth,  are  called  fossil  substances  ;  under  which  are  com- 
prehended metals,  minerals,  stones  of  divers  kinds,  and 
sundry  bodies  that  have  the  texture  between  earth  and 
stone. 

These  bodies  are  divided  into  four  different  classes  by 
mineralogists,  viz.  I.  Earth  and  Stones  in  general ;  II. 
Salts  ;  III.  Inflammables  ;  and  IV.  Metals. 

I.  Earth  and  Stones  in  general  are  1st,  mould,  the  support 
of  vegetables  ;  2d,  clays,  which  mixed  with  water,  harden 
in  the  fire,  into  bricks,  delf,  china,  &c  ;  3d,  calcareous 
substances,  as  chalks,  marls,  limestones,  marbles,  con- 
vertible by  heat  into  quicklime,  and  gypsum  into  ala- 
baster ;  4th,  talcs,  which  are  found  in  flat,  smooth  lamina  ; 
5th,  slates  also  split,  into  laminse  :  these,  with  a  variety  of 
stones  from  freestone,  or  sand,  to  granite,  porphyry, 
flint,  and  substances  still  harder,  such  as  precious  stones, 
are  known  by  various  properties,  and  are  accordingly  ap- 
plied to  different  purposes  ;  some,  in  addition  to  being 
serviceable  in  building,  are  used  as  whetstones  ;  some 
strike  fire  with  steel ;  others  are  polished  to  glitter  in 
the  dress  of  the  fair,  or  decorate  the  furniture  of  the 
opulent ;  and  others,  melted  by  fire,  form  the  transparent 
glass. 

Although  there  seems  to  be  an  almost  infinite  variety  of 
earthy  substances  scattered  on  the  surface  of  this  globe. 


48 


YOUNG  MAN*S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


yet,  when  we  examine  them  chemically,  we  find  that  all 
the  earth  and  stones  which  we  tread  under  our  feet,  and 
which  compose  the  largest  rocks,  as  well  as  the  numerous 
different  specimens  which  adorn  the  cabinets  of  the  cu- 
rious, are  composed  of  a  very  few  simple  or  elementary 
earths,  the  principal  of  which  are  the  calcareous,  siliceous, 
argillaceous,  magnesia,  terra  ponderosa,  and  a  few  others, 
which  have  been  discovered  lately }  but  have  not  been 
nuch  examined. 

Calcareous  earth  is  found  in  the  shells  of  fishes,  the 
bones  of  animals,  chalk,  limestone,  marble,  and  gypsum  : 
but  all  calcareous  earth  is  supposed  to  be  of  animal  origin : 
and  beds  of  chalk,  limestone,  or  marble,  are  thought  to 
have  been  beds  of  shells  formed  in  the  sea,  in  some  pristine 
state  of  the  earth. 

Silex,  or  siliceous  earth,  is  the  principal  constituent  part 
of  a  great  number  of  the  ccumound  earths  and  stones, 
forming  the  immense  mass  of  the  solid  nucleus  of  the 
globe.  It  is  the  base  of  almost  all  the  scintillating  stones, 
such  as  flint,  rock  crystal,  quartz,  agate,  calcedon,  jasper, 
&c.  The  sand  of  rivers,  and  of  the  sea  shore,  chiefly 
consists  of  it. 

Argillaceous  earth  is  found  in  clay,  schistus,  or  slate, 
and  in  mica.  This  species  of  earth  is  ductile  with  water, 
it  then  hardens  and  contracts  by  heat,  so  as  to  be  of  the 
greatest  use  in  forming  brick,  or  stones  of  any  required 
form  or  size. 

Terra  ponderosa  is  generally  found  in  two  states,  viz. 
united  to  vitriolic  acid,  when  it  is  called  calk,  or  to  fixed 
air,  when  it  is  called  terra  ponderosa  zerata.  This  earth 
is  distinguishable  by  its  great  specific  gravity,  being  four 
times  as  heavy  as  water. 

JMagnesia  is  found  sometimes  pure  in  nature,  but  it  is 
generally  obtained  by  art  from  some  of  its  combinations. 
It  gives  a  peculiar  character  to  the  substances  of  which  it 
forms  a  part.  The  stones  which  contain  magnesia  in  con- 
siderable quantity,  have  generally  a  smooth  and  unctuous 
feel,  a  greenish  cast,  a  fibrous  obstraited  texture,  and  a 
silky  lustre.  Among  them  we  may  mention  talc,  steatite, 
serpentine,  chlorite,  abestos,  &c.  Pure  magnesia  does  not 
form  with  water  an  adhesive  ductile  mass.  It  is  in  the 
form  of  a  very  white  spongy  powder  and  perfectly 
tasteless. 


WORKS  OF  NATURE. 


42 


Stones  are  formed  by  the  mixtures  of  the  earths  together, 

and  of  the  mixtures  of  earths  with  alkalis,  and  sometimes 
with  acids.  Stones  bound  together  by  some  cement,  form 
rocks.  There  is  also  a  kind  of  stones  of  a  peculiar  nature, 
produced  by  the  fire  of  volcanos. 

The  stones  in  which  the  acids  and  alkalis  abound,  are 
called  saline  stones,  and  the  mixtures  of  the  earths  with 
aach  other,  form  stones  properly  so  called.  Of  stones 
properly  so  called,  those  in  which  the  siliceous  earth 
abounds  and  predominates,  are  very  numerous  ;  the  prin- 
cipal of  which  we  shall  briefly  notice. 

Siliceous  mixtures  have  sufficient  hardness  to  strike  fire 
with  steel.  Of  this  description  are  the  precious  stones,  rock 
crystal,  or  quartz,  felspar,  silex,  crysopryse,  lapis  lazuli, 
*asper,  and  schorl 

Gems,  or  precious  stones,  are  of  various  kinds.  They 
are  distinguished  by  their  hardness,  weight,  colour,  and 
splendour,  as  well  as  by  their  property  of  producing  single 
or  double  refractions.  As  their  colour  is,  of  all  their 
characters,  the  most  apparent,  it  is  according  to  this  that 
we  shall  divide  them. 

Red  gems  are  the  ruby,  the  vermilion,  garnet,  and  girasol. 
The  ruby  is  a  transparent  stone,  the  colour  of  which  is 
more  or  less  red.  It  is  distinguished  into  four  kinds,  viz. 
the  oriental  ruby,  the  spinel  ruby,  the  balass  ruby,  and  the 
Brazilian  ruby. 

Yelloxo  gems  are  the  topaz,  hyacinth,  and  jargon  of  Ceylon. 
Of  the  topaz,  there  are  three  kinds,  the  oriental  topaz,  the 
Brazilian  topaz,  and  the  Saxon  topaz. 

Blue  gems  are  the  sapphire,  and  the  aigue  marine.— 
There  are  two  kinds  of  the  sapphire,  viz.  the  oriental  sap- 
phire, and  the  Brazilian.  There  are  also  two  kinds  of  the 
aigue  marine,  the  oriental  and  the  occidental. 

Green  gems  are  the  emerald  of  Peru  and  the  chrysolite, 
of  which  there  are  two  kinds,  viz.  the  Brazilian,  and  that 
of  the  jewellers. 

The  diamond  ought  certainly  to  be  placed  among  the 
precious  stones,  but  it  is  different  from  all  those  above 
described.  Its  combustibility  is  a  property  entirely  pecu- 
liar to  itself ;  the  diamond,  indeed,  bums  in  the  same  man- 
ner as  phosphorus,  and  disappears  without  leaving  any 
vestiges  of  it  behind.  The  diamond  is  supposed  to  be  pure 
carbon,  and  the  radical  of  the  carbonic  acid. 

£ 


YOUNG  MAN*S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE, 


There  are  several  varieties  of  the  diamond,  which  diffef 
from  each  other  only  in  colour  ;  some  are  of  a  rose  colour, 
and  others  red,  orange,  yellow,  green,  blue,  and  dark  coloured. 

Rock  crystal  and  quartz,  seem  to  be  the  same  stone.— 
The  name  of  rock  crystal  is  given  to  that  which  is  crystal- 
lized, and  of  quartz  to  that  which  is  in  a  rude  mass.  The 
form  of  these  crystals  is  a  hexsedral  prism,  terminated  at 
one  of  its  extremities,  and  sometimes  at  both,  by  a  summit, 
composed  of  six  triangular  faces.  In  hardness,  they  are 
inferior  to  all  the  other  gems.  Rock  crystal  consists  almost 
entirely  of  pure  silex.  Quartz  enters  into  the  composition 
of  granite. 

Freestone  is  of  the  same  nature  as  quartz.  It  is  granu- 
lated, being  composed  of  small  grains  of  quartz,  cemented 
together,  but  which  have  very  little  adhesion. 

Felspar  is  inferior  in  hardness  to  quartz.  It  fuses  by 
the  action  of  heat,  and  forms  white  enamel.  It  is  one  oi 
the  constituent  parts  of  porcelain. 

We  may  mention,  under  this  class,  adamantine  spars 
which  approaches  near  to  the  preceding  in  its  appearance 
and  fracture,  but  which  differs  from  them  considerably, 
by  its  great  hardness,  its  form,  and  gravity-  It  is  so 
exceedingly  hard,  that  it  may  be  employed  to  cut- the 
diamond. 

Flint  is  a  stone,  which  is  so  hard  as  to  strike  fire  with 
steel.    Among  the  different  kinds  of  flints,  some  change 
their  colour  according  to  the  directions  of  the  rays  of  light, 
and  others  do  not.    Of  the  former  there  are  three,  the  1 
opal,  the  caHs-eye,  and  the  fish-eye. 

The  kinds  of  flints  which  do  not  change  their  colour 
according  to  their  direction  of  the  rays  of  light,  exhibit 
tints  of  rribre  or  less  brightness,  and  are  susceptible  of  a 
fine  polish.  We  are  acquainted  with  eight  kinds  of  them, 
viz.  common  fiint,  petro  silex,  agate,  calcedony,  cornelian,  sar- 
donyx, the  jade,  and  the  prasium. 

Common  fiint  possesses  very  little  transparency.  Ail 
the  different  kinds  of  it  have  a  dark  dull  colour,  and  are 
concave  or  convex,  on  the  fracture.  They  do  not  fuse  in 
the  fire,  but  are  calcined  and  become  white. 

The  distinguishing  character  of  petro  silex  is  its  semi- 
transparency,  similar  to  that  of  wax.  It  becomes  white  in 
tgte  fire,  like  the  common  flint,  but  it  is  more  fusible,  as  it 
runs  without  any  addition. 


WORKS  OF  NATURE. 


51 


Agate  has  a  smooth  shining  fracture,  and  will  take  a 
very  high  polish  :  it  is  much  variegated.  When  exposed 
to  heat,  it  loses  its  colour,  and  becomes  opaque,  but  with- 
out fusing. 

The  calcedony  has  a  milky  semi-transparency.  Every 
kind  of  it  takes  a  fine  polish.  These  stones  are  white, 
intermixed  sometimes  with  tints  of  red,  yellow,  and  blue. 

The  cornelians  are  all  either  entirely,  or  in  part,  of  a 
beautiful  red  colour,  but  they  lose  their  colour  in  the  fire, 
and  become  opaque.  They  are  all  susceptible  of  a  fine 
polish. 

Lapis  lazuli  is  of  a  beautiful  sky-blue  colour,  sometimes 
mixed  with  white,  and  is  entirely  opaque.  It  is  sometimes 
mixed  with  pyrites,  from  which  it  has  been  supposed  that 
it  contained  gold.  If  exposed  to  a  strong  heat,  it  fuses, 
and  forms  a  sort  of  wrhitish  glass  ;  when  calcined,  it  dis- 
solves in  acids  into  a  kind  of  jelly.  Lapis  lazuli,  wThen 
pulverized,  forms  that  valuable  colour  known  under  the 
name  of  ultra  marine. 

Jasper  is  a  stone  which  exhibits  every  variety  of  colour. 
It  is  exceedingly  hard,  and  receives  a  very  beautiful  and 
durable  polish.  When  exposed  to  the  action  of  heat,  it 
does  not  fuse. 

Schorl  is  a  hard  stone,  fusible  in  a  moderate  fire,  without 
any  addition.  Its  crystals  exhibit  a  great  variety,  in  re- 
gard to  form,  appearance,  texture,  structure,  &c.  Schorl, 
in  general,  is  opaque ;  some  kinds,  however,  are  trans- 
parent, such  as  the  Brazilian  emerald,  the  peridot,  the 
tourmalin,  &c. 

The  colour  of  schorl  is  various ;  some  kinds  are  black, 
others  violet,  and  some  green.  Schorl  enters  into  the 
composition  of  porphyry,  serpentine,  the  ophite,  granitell, 
and  granite. 

The  primitive  earths  form  stones,  as  we  have  men- 
tioned, and  stones  united  by  cement,  form  those  masses 
called  rocks.  We  shall  notice  the  six  mixtures  which 
are  most  commonly  found  in  those  masses,  viz.  porphyry, 
serpentine,  ophites,  granitell,  granite,  and  flint. 

Porphyry  is  composed  of  felspar  in  small  fragments,  of 
schorl,  and  a  kind  of  cement,  which  unites  all  the  parts, 
and  which,  in  some  measure,  forms  the  base.  Porphyry 
is  exceedingly  hard  and  difficult  to  be  cut ;  it  will,  how- 


YOUNG  M.lN's  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


ever,  take  a  fine  polish.  Some  kinds  of  it  are  red,  and 
others  green. 

Serpentine  is  composed  of  the  same  substance  as  por- 
phyry. The  only  difference  is,  that  the  felspar  is  in  larger 
fragments.  The  colour  of  serpentine  is  various  ;  some 
kinds  are  green,  others  violet,  some  yellow,  and  some 
black. 

The  ophite  is  composed  of  only  two  substances,  viz. 
black  schorl,  known  under  the  name  of  ancient  black 
basaltes,  interspersed  with  greenish  felspar,  which  forms 
in  it  long  spots.    This  stone  has  considerable  hardness. 

Granitell  is  also  composed  of  two  substances  ;  black 
schorl,  and  white  felspar,  mixed  with  some  of  the  green 
felspar.  The  only  difference,  then,  between  the  granitells 
and  the  ophites  is,  that  the  schorl  which  enters  into  the 
composition  of  the  former,  is  not  of  the  same  kind  as  that 
in  the  latter. 

Granite  is  composed  of  felspar,  schorl,  and  quartz.  The 
colour  of  granite  is  various ;  it  is  hard,  difficult  to  be 
worked,  and  receives  a  fine  polish. 

Flint  is  a  hard  opaque  stone,  susceptible  of  a  very 
beautiful  polish.  It  appears  to  be  composed  of  concentric 
strata,  and  has  considerable  brilliancy  on  its  fracture. — 
Flints  are  never  found  in  continued  quarries,  like  the  other 
stones ;  they  are  found  detached,  and  dispersed  through- 
out the  fields.  When  joined  by  any  kind  of  cement,  they 
form  pudding-stones.  They  become  decomposed  in  the 
air,  for  they  are  found  for  the  most  part  covered  with  a 
crust,  of  a  softer  nature  than  the  anterior  part.  Their 
colour  is  exceeding  various  ;  some  of  them  are  spotted  and 
variegated  with  veins,  others  exhibit  the  resemblance  of 
plumes  and  even  of  plants. 

Volcanic  productions  are  chiefly  pumice-stones  1  lava,  and 
basaltes. 

Pumice-stone  is  real  glass,  in  the  form  of  small  greyish, 
white,  and  exceedingly  brilliant  filaments.  These  filaments 
always  have  vacuities  of  greater  or  lesser  sizes  between 
them,  which  occasion  great  variations  in  its  specific  gravity. 
In  general  it  is  lighter  than  water. 

Lava  is  that  burning  matter  which  runs  down  in  such 
prodigious  quantities  from  volcanos,  when  in  a  state  of 
eruption,  and  often  extends  to  a  great  distance.  This 


WORKS  OF  NATURE. 


53 


matter  is  a  semi-vitrified  substance,  which  appears  black- 
ish, on  account  of  its  density. 

Basaltes  is  blackish  and  opaque.  By  the  action  of  heat, 
it  may  be  converted  into  glass,  of  a  very  beautiful  black 
colour.  It  often  crystallizes  in  prisms,  of  three,  four,  five, 
six,  or  seven  planes.  Of  some  kinds,  such  as  that  known 
under  the  name  of  touchstone,  the  grain  is  exceedingly 
fine. 


II.  Of  Salts. — The  alkalis,  acids,  and  the  combinations 
in  which  they  enter  in  sufficient  quantities,  are  called  salts, 
or  saline  substances ;  for  a  saline  substance,  in  its  extended 
chemical  sense,  moans  a  substance  that  has  some  taste, 
and  is  soluble  in  water.  These  substances,  however,  do 
not  strictly  and  exclusively  belong  to  the  fossil  department, 
but  are  obtained  also  from  animal  and  vegetable  substances. 
They  are  the  most  active  agents  in  creation.  They  give 
bodies  their  consistency  ;  preserve  them  from  corruption, 
and  render  them  savoury. 

Alkalis  are  distinguishable  by  their  acrid,  burning,  and 
urnious  taste,  their  causticity,  their  singular  action  on  the 
skin,  and  all  animal  substances,  the  quality  of  changing 
the  blue  colour  of  violets  to  a  green,  and  evon  a  greenish 
yellow,  and  deliquescency.  We  are  acquainted  with  three 
species,  potash,  soda,  and  ammonia.  The  first  and  second 
have  been  called  fixed  alkalis,  because  they  melt  and  grow 
red  in  the  firs  before  they  become  volatile  ;  the  third  has 
been  named  volatile  alkali,  from  possessing  the  opposite 
property. 

Potash  is  known  by  the  following  characters  : — It  is  dry, 
solid,  white,  and  very  deliquescent,  absorbs  water  with, 
heat,  and  a  peculiar  faint  smell,  combines  with  siliceous 
earth  by  fusion,  and  forms  glass.  It  is  frequently  found 
native  with  lime,  and  combined  with  different  acids  ;  but 
is  chiefly  obtained  from  vegetables,  in  the  ashes  of  which 
it  remains  after  combustion. 

Soda,  or  the  mineral  alkali,  is  procured  from  the  ashes  of 
sea-weed,  and  constitutes  the  basis  of  sea  salt.  It  strik- 
ingly resembles  potash  in  form,  causticity,  fusibility,  deli- 
quescency, combination  with  earthy  substances,  by  means 
e2 


YOUNG  MAN  S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE, 


of  fusion,  action  on  animal  substances,  &c.  so  that  it  was 
long  confounded  with  it,  and  might  have  continued  to  be 
so,  if  it  did  not  form  very  different  salts  with  acids,  and 
yields  these  acids  to  potash. 

Ammonia,  or  volatile  alkali,  differs  greatly  from  the  two 
preceding  species  in  its  form  of  gas  when  dissolved  in 
caloric,  in  its  liquid  form  when  dissolved  in  water,  in  its 
pungent  and  suffocating  smell,  its  solubility  in  air,  &c. — 
Ammonia  is  procured  by  burning  animal  substances  ;  in 
Egypt,  (from  whence,  as  contained  in  sal  ammoniac,  we  till 
of  late  imported  it),  from  camel's  dung  ;  but  now  from 
bones  by  distillation. 

All  acids  appear  to  be  combinations  of  oxygen  or  vital 
air,  with  elementary  substances.  Their  taste  is  sour,  as 
their  name  imports.  They  change  most  of  the  blue  vege- 
table colours  red,  and  have  a  tendency  to  combine  with 
earths,  alkalis,  and  metallic  substances. 

All  acids,  being  compounds  of  oxygen  with  different 
substances,  the  former  principle  is  the  cause  of  their 
resemblance  and  common  properties  ;  the  latter,  being 
different  in  each,  may  serve  to  characterize  each  in  parti- 
cular. For  this  reason,  those  matters  which  are  variable 
in  acids,  are  termed  their  radicals,  acidifiuble  principles. 
Thus  all  acids  are  combinations  of  radicals,  or  acidiflable 
substances,  different  in  each  species,  with  oxygen,  which 
is  the  same  in  all :  whence  it  follows,  that  their  common 
properties,  their  characters  as  acids,  depend  on  oxygen, 
which  is  the  acidifying  principle  ;  their  particular  pro- 
perties, their  specific  characters,  arise  from  their  radicals. 
The  word  acid,  indicating  the  general  and  identical  nature 
of  these  substances,  forms  their  generical  name,  where 
the  particular  name  of  the  radical  contained  in  each,  may, 
with  propriety,  designate  each  particular  acid.  Thus 
sulphur  is  the  radical  of  the  acid  we  name  sulphuric  ; 
phosphorus  that  of  the  phosphoric  ;  carbon  that  of  the 
carbonic,  and  so  on. 

Acidifiable  radicals  may  contain  different  quantities  of 
oxygen,  and  under  this  point  of  view  they  possess  two 
states  of  acidity.  The  first  is  that,  in  which  they  contain 
the  least  possible  quantity  of  oxy/-rs  to  render  them  acid. 
In  this  their  acidity  is  commonly  weak,  and  they  adhere 
fyut  feebly  to  the  bases  with  whicn  they  are  capable  ot 


WORKS  OF  NATURE. 


60 


forming  salts.  The  modem  methodical  nomenclature 
designates  this  state  of  combination  and  acidity,  by  giving 
the  names  of  these  weak  acids  the  termination  of  oils. — 
Thus  we  say  the  sulphurous,  nitrous,  phosphorous,  or 
ascetous  acid.^  The  second  state  of  acids  is  that  in  which 
they  contain  more  oxygen,  and  in  general  are  completely 
saturated  with  it.  In  this  they  have  all  the  strength  and 
attraction  they  are  capable  of  possessing  as  acids,  and  the 
modern  nomenclature  expresses  it  by  the  termination  ie. 
Thus  we  say  the  sulphuric,  nitric,  phosphoric,  or  ascetic, 
acid.  With  regard  to  the  proportion  of  oxygen  united  to 
aciduiable  radicals,  still  greater  latitude  may  be  given  to 
the  consideration  presented  above.  Each  radical  may  be 
contemplated  in  four  states  : — 1st,  Containing  very  little 
oxygen,  not  sufficient  to  impart  to  it  the  nature  of  an  acid, 
and  in  this  it  is  nothing  more  than  an  oxyd  ;  such  as  sul- 
phur coloured  red  or  brown,  by  exposure  to  the  air,  and  a 
degree  of  heat  inadequate  to  produce  inflammation;  wThen 
it  is  oxyd  of  sulphur. — 2d\y,  Containing  more  oxygen 
than  in  the  preceding  case,  and  enough  to  become  an  acid, 
though  weak ;  as  in  the  sulphurous  acid.— 3dly,  Possess- 
ing still  more  oxygen  than  in  the  second  instance,  and 
having  acquired  powerful  acid  properties,  such  as  the  sul- 
phuric acid. — 4thly,Conjoined  with  a  larger  dose  of  oxygen 
than  is  necessary  to  constitute  a  powerful  acid,  an  acid  in 
ic  ;  when  it  is  termed  an  oxygenated  acid,  or  even  super- 
oxygenated. 

The  acids  are  generally  divided  into  mineral,  vegetable^ 
and  animal  acids,  according  to  the  nature  of  their  radicals. 
Though  the  first  class  only  with  propriety  claims  notice 
in  this  place,  yet  for  the  information  of  the  reader,  we  will 
enumerate  those  belonging  to  each  of  the  above  classes. 

The  mineral  acids  at  present  known,  are  the  sulphuric 
(formerly  called  the  vitriolic)  acid  ;  the  nitric  acid,  called 
also  aquafortis  ;  the -muriatic  or  marine  acid,  called  by 
artizans  the  spirit  of  salt ;  the  carbonic  acid,  formerly 
called  the  acid  of  charcoal,  cerial  acid,  ox  fixed  air,  &c.  the 
phosphoric  acid,  wmich  is  likewise  an  animal  acid,  it  being 
found  amongst  animal  matters  as  well  as  among  minerals  ; 
the  acid  of  borax  ;  the  fluoric  acid,  formerly  called  the 
acid  of  spar ;  the  arsenic  acid  ;  the  molybdic  acid ;  the 
tungstenic  acid  ;  and  the  chromic  acid.  The  last  four  are 
also  called  metallic  acids. 


58 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


The  vegetable  acids  are  the  ascetic  or  vinegar,  the  acid 
of  tartar,  the  empyreumatic  acid  of  tartar,  the  oxalic  or 
acid  of  sorel,  the  acid  of  galls,  the  citric  or  lemon  acidr 
the  malic  or  acid  of  apples,  the  benzoic  or  the  acid  of  ben- 
jamin, the  empyreumatic  acid  of  wood,  the  empyreumatic 
acid  of  sugar,  the  acid  of  camphor,  and  the  suberic  or  acid 
of  cork. 

The  animal  acids  are,  the  acid  of  milk,  the  acid  of  sugar 
of  milk,  the  formic  or  acid  of  ants,  the  prussic  acid,  viz. 
the  colouring  matter  of  Prussian  blue,  which  is  obtained, 
from  dried  blood,  hoofs,  &c.  the  sebacic  or  acid  of  fat,  the 
bombic  or  acid  of  silk- worms,  the  laccic  or  the  acid  of 
waxy  matter,  and  the  zoonic  or  the  acid  extracted  from 
animal  matter  by  means  of  lime. 

For  a  more  full  account  of  these  acids,  we  refer  the 
reader  to  various  recent  publications,  written  professedly 
on  the  subject  of  chemistry. 

Acids  and  alkalis  shew  strong  attractions  for  each  other, 
and  when  combined  together  in  such  proportion  that  nei- 
ther of  them  predominates,  form  neutral  salts,  substances 
altogether  dissimilar  to  the  elements  of  which  they  are 
composed.  The  salt  in  common  use,  for  instance,  is  formed 
of  mineral  acid  and  alkali;  either  of  which,  singly,  would 
be  hurtful  to  the  human  body  ;  and  the  acid,  in  particular, 
would  be  extremely  pernicious. 

Each  acid  produces  with  each  of  the  three  alkalis  a 
particular  neutral  salt.  The  number  of  the  last  may, 
therefore,  be  found,  by  multiplying  the  number  of  the  acids 
which  we  know,  by  three,  the  number  of  the  alkalis. 


III.  Inflammables. — Inflammables  are  sulphur  or  bitu- 
mens. These  substances  are  both  derived  from  the  spoils 
of  vegetables  and  animals. 

Sulphur,  known  also  by  the  name  of  bri?nstone,  is  a 
simple  combustible  substance,  which  nature  frequently 
presents  in  a  pure  state.  It  is  found  in  the  earth  in  a 
loose  powder,  or  solid  ;  and  either  detached,  or  in  veins 
It  is  met  with  in  the  greatest  plenty  in  the  neighbourhood 
of  volcanos,  and  is  deposited  as  a  crust  on  stones  contigu 
ous  to  them.   It  is  also  met  with  in  mineral  waters,  coal 


WORKS  OF  NATUftE. 


57 


mines,  &c.  and  also  in  combinations  with  most  of  the 
metals. 

The  bitumens  are  naptha,  petrol,  mineral  tar,  asphaltuml 
jet,  cannel-coal,  mineral  tallow,  pit-coal,  amber,  &c. 

JYaptha  is  a  white  or  yellowish  white  substance,  fluid 
as  water,  feels  greasy,  has  a  penetrating  smell,  and  burns 
with  a  light  flame,  leaving  scarcely  any  residuum. 

Petrol,  or  petroleum,  is  a  brown  semi-transparent  sub- 
stance ;  being  naptha,  thickened,  and  altered  in  colour  and 
other  respects  by  the  air. 

Mineral  tar  is  petrol  farther  altered  by  the  air,  having 
become  of  the  colour  and  consistency  of  pitch. 

Jlsphaltum,  or  mineral  pitch,  is  produced  by  a  still  farther 
exsiccation  or  drying. 

Jet  is  a  substance  of  a  full  black,  harder  and  less  brittle 
than  asphalt :  and,  according  to  Wiedenman,  is  a  species  of 
coal. 

Cannel-coal  appears  to  be  next  to  jet,  in  gradation,  of  the 
compound  mineral  bituminous  substances, 

Mineral  tallow  is  rarely  met  with,  and  imperfectly  known. 
It  much  resembles  tallow. 

Mineral  caoutchoc  is  a  substance  much  resembling,  in  its 
elastic  properties,  the  substance  from  which  it  takes  its 
name. 

Pit-coal,  according  to  Mons.  Gensanne  and  others,  is  an 
earth  or  stone,  chiefly  of  the  argillaceous  genus,  penetrated 
or  impregnated  with  petrol  or  asphalt.  It  has  also  been 
supposed  to  have  been  formed  by  vegetables  growing  in 
the  sea,  and  by  vast  forests  which  have  been  buried  by 
subsequent  revolutions. 

Amber  is  a  bitumen  generally  of  a  yellow  or  brown 
colour.  It  is  found  either  under  the  surface  of  the  ground, 
among  the  clay,  sand,  and  iron  bog  oar,  when'it  is  called 
fossil  amber ;  or  is  thrown  on  the  shore  by  the  waters  of 
the  sea,  and  is  then  called  mineral  amber.  It  is  tasteless, 
but  when  rubbed,  it  yields  a  faint  odour,  and  manifests 
electric  powers. 


IV.  Metals. — We  are  at  present  acquainted  with  ixoen- 
ty-one  metallic  substances,  essentially  different  from  each 
other  ;  gold,  platina*  silver,  mercury,  lead,  copper,  iron,  tiny 


38 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


zinc,  bismuth,  antimony,  arsenic,  cobalt,  nickel,  manganese, 
molybdena,  wolfram,  chrome, uranium,  titanium,  and  tellurium. 

Metals  exceed  all  other  fossils  in  specific  gravity*  ;  but 
there  exists,  in  this  respect,  a  remarkable  difference  among 
themselves.  They  are  completely  opaque.  They  also 
possess  a  mirror-like  lustre,  which  is  one  of  their  charac- 
teristic marks  ;  and  they  present  a  convex  surface  when 
melted  in  earthen  vessels.  Besides,  they  are  all  indissolu- 
ble in  water.  And  by  these  external  characters,  it  is  easy 
t-o  distinguish  this  class  from  all  other  fossils,  viz.  earths, 
salts,  bitumens,  and  sulphur. 

Metals  are  concealed  in  the  earth,  and  form  ores,  which, 
existing  in  crevices  of  rocks,  are  called  veins,  and  are  dis- 
tinguished into  level,  or  into  inclined,  direct,  or  oblique, 
according  to  the  angle  they  make  with  the  horizon.  The 
part  of  the  rock  resting  on  the  vein,  is  termed  the  roof ; 
and  that  on  which  the  vein  rests,  the  bed  of  the  vein.  And 
the  cavities  made  in  the  earth,  in  order  to  extract  these 
ores,  are  called  mines. 

"When  nature  has  bestowed  on  metals  their  proper 
metallic  appearance,  or  they  are  only  alloyed  with  other 
metals,  they  are  said  to  be  native.  When  combined,  as  they 
commonly  are  in  mines,  with  some  unmetallic  substance, 
they  are  said  to  be  mineralized  :  the  substance  that  sets 
them  in  that  state  is  called  a  mineralizer,  and  the  compound 
of  both,  an  ore ;  which  term  is  applicable  when  stones,  or 
earths  contain  metallic  substances,  whether  native  or 
mineralized,  in  a  notable  proportion. 

Several  metals  are  ductile  and  malleable,  and  their  parrs 
may  be  displaced  from  each  other  by  compression,  or  ham- 
mering, without  losing  their  cohesion.  Hence,  some  of 
them  may  be  stretched  out  to  thin  lamina;,  or  drawn  into 
slender  filaments  ;  as,  for  instance,  gold,  silver,  platina, 
copper,  lead,  tin,  and  iron. — Other  metals  are  fragile,  or 
brittle,  and  do  not  admit  of  being  stretched  and  extended  ; 
such  are  antimony,  arsenic,  cobalt,  bismuth,  &c 

*  The  specific  gravity  of  any  body  is  the  proportion  which  its  weight 
bears  to  the  weight  of  another  body  of  equal  bulk.  The  established 
custom  is  to  compare  all  bodies  with  water,  the  specific  gravity  of  which 
is  reckoned  one,  or  unity  ;  so  that  when  the  specific  gravity  of  any  body, 
as  gold,  for  instance,  is  said  to  be  19,  zinc  7,  we  mean  that  equal  quantities 
of  water,  gold,  and  zinc,  weigh  respectively  1, 19,  and  7,  be  they  pounds, 
ounces,  grains,  or  any  other  weights. 


WORKS  OF  NATURE. 


69 


All  metals  are  fusible,  but  not  all  in  the  same  degree  ; 
thus  mercury  is  melted  even  by  the  usual  temperature  of 
our  atmosphere.  Some  metals,  as  tin  and  lead,  melt  even 
before  ignition  ;  others,  as  silver,  gold,  copper,  iron,  fuse 
only  after  being  ignited. 

All  metals,  iron  and  platina  only  excepted,  melt,  on  a 
sudden,  as  soon  as  they  are  heated  in  a  due  degree  ;  but 
iron  and  platina  grow  soft  before  they  fuse,  and  on  this 
depends  their  very  useful  property  of  becoming  capable  of 
being  welded. 

Almost  all  metals  may  be  combined  by  fusion  into  one 
seemingly  homogeneous  mass  ;  and  from  thence  various 
metallic  mixtures,  metallic  alloys,  or  compositions,  arise  ; 
which,  for  their  particular  properties,  are  often  of  very 
great  utility. 

If  metals  be  continued  in  fusion,  they  lose  their  brilliancy, 
and  become  an  opaque  powder,  or  what  is  termed  a  metallic 
oxydox  calx. 

All  metals,  gold,  silver,  and  platina  excepted,  are  oxyded 
or  calcined  in  fire  with  access  of  air.  In  this  respect, 
those  which  cannot,  be  oxyded  by  fire,  have  received  the 
name  of  noble  metals,  to  distinguish  them  from  the  rest, 
which  may  be  calcined  that  way,  and  are  called  base 
metals. 

Gold  is  a  noble  metal,  of  a  yellow  colour;  and, 'after 
platina,  the  heaviest  of  metals.  Its  specific  gravity  is 
from  19,258  to  19,640.  Its  hardness  and  elasticity  are 
inconsiderable  ;  but  its  tenacity  is  great ;  and  with  regard 
to  ductility,  or  malleability,  it  exceeds  all  other  metallic 
substances. 

Platina  is  a  noble  metal,  of  a  white  colour  ;  for  which 
'  reason  some  call  it  white  gold.  In  Europe  it  is  known 
only  since  the  middle  of  the  present  century,  and  brought 
to  us  in  small  irregularly-figured  grains,  but  which  are 
impure,  and  mostly  contaminated  with  iron.  Pure  platina 
exceeds  all  other  metals,  even  gold,  in  specific  gravity  ;  it 
is  often  found  to  reach  21.061.  It  is  ductile  and  malle- 
able ;  its  hardness  and  tenacity  are  greater  than  those  of 
gold,  and  it  admits  of  being  welded. 

Silver  is  a  noble  metal,  of  a  white  colour,  whose  speci- 
fic gravity  is  variable  from  10.474  to  10.542  ;  it  is  very 
malleable  and  ductile,  and  of  a  moderate  hardness.  ,  tt 
fuses  in  a  heat  of  less  intensity,  than  is  required  by  gold  ; 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


it  is  fixed  in  fire,  and  is  not  affected  by  water  nor  air, 
remaining  in  both  unaltered ;  but  by  sulphureous  vapours 
it  is  very  soon  tarnished. 

Mercury ,  or  quicksilver,  is  a  base  metal,  of  a  white  co 
lour.  Its  specific  gravity  is  upon  an  average  13.674.  It 
is  the  most  fusible  of  all  known  metals,  and  continues  in 
the  fluid  state  even  in  the  cold  temperature  of  our  winters; 
it  congeals  only  at  40  Fahrenheit,  and  shews  then  some 
tenacity  and  ductility. 

Lead  is  a  base  metal,  of  a  blueish-white  colour.  Its 
specific  gravity  is  from  11.352  to  11.445.  It  is  consider- 
ably ductile,  but  a  little  tenacious  and  hard  ;  hence  it  may 
be  extended  in  thm  plates  by  the  hammer,  but  not  drawn 
into  fine  wire.    It  has  scarcely  any  elasticity. 

Bismuth  is  a  yellowish  or  reddish-white  metal,  of  a  fo- 
liated fracture,  and  very  brittle,  it  being  even  reducible  to 
powder  by  the  hammer.  Its  specific  gravity  is  from  9.670 
to  9.822.  It  is  somewhat  harder  than  lead,  but  more  fusible. 

Nickel  is  a  greyish-white  metal,  of  a  specific  gravity 
between  9.000  and  9.333.  It  is  malleable,  and  very  com- 
pact or  firm. 

Copper  is  a  base  metal,  of  a  brownish-red  colour  ;  so- 
norous, very  tenacious,  ductile,  and  malleable  ;  of  a  con- 
siderable compactness,  of  a  moderate  hardness  and  elasti 
city,  and  of  an  hackly  fracture.  Its  specific  gravity  varies 
from  7.788  to  9.000. 

Arsenic  is  a  brittle  metal,  and,  on  the  recent  fracture,  of 
a  mean  colour  betwixt  tin-white  and  lead  grey,  but,  on 
exposure  to  air,  it  soon  turns  black  and  dull.  Its  specific 
gravity  is  8.310  ;  its  hardness  is  somewhat  considerable, 
and  seemingly  surpassing  that  of  copper;  but  its  ductility 
is  so  little,  and  its  brittleness  so  great,  that  it  is  readily 
converted  into  powder  by  the  hammer. 

Of  all  metals,  Iron  exhibits  the  most  varieties  and  devi- 
ations. Its  difference  in  colour,  density,  fracture,  tenacity, 
ductility,  and  degree  of  fusibility,  are  uncommonly  great. 
Soft  and  malleable  iron  has  a  greyish-white  colour-a  light- 
grey,  fibrous,  hackley  fracture.  Its  specific  gravity,  at  a 
mean  rate,  is  7,700  ;  its  hardness  is  not  great,  but  its  mal- 
leability and  tenacity  are  considerably  so  ;  and  it  has  this 
characteristic  property,  not  possessed  by  other  species  of 
this  metal,  that  whether  cold  or  ignited,  it  may  be  extended, 
forged  and  bent,  without  breaking. 


WORKS  OF  NATURE.  61 

By  cast  or  crude  iron,  that  metal  is  understood,  which  is 
obtained  by  the  first  smelting  of  iron-ores.  Such  iron  is 
distinguished  from  ductile  iron,  by  its  refusing  to  be  extend- 
ed and  forged  by  the  hammer,  whether  cold  or  ignited,  by 
its  brittleness,  and  by  its  fusing  in  strong  heat  in  open  fire, 
without  addition,  whereby  it  is  rendered  capable  of  being 
cast  into  moulds.  The  colour  of  crude  iron  is  more  or  less 
of  a  pale  grey. 

Steel  differs  both  from  the  ductile  and  the  crude  iron. 
Its  distinguishing  property  is,  that  when  it  is  tempered, 
that  is  to  say,  when  it  is  hastily  plunged  in  cold  water 
while  ignited  to  redness,  it  becomes  harder,  more  brittle, 
and  inflexible  ;  and  that,  before,  this  tempering  or  harden- 
ing, it  is  ductile,  whether  cold  or  ignited  ;  and  also,  that, 
after  having  been  hardened,  it  reassumes  its  ductility  by  a 
fresh  ignition  and  gradual  cooling,  without  quenching.  Its 
colour  is  a  light  grey,  its  fracture  finely  granular. 

Cobalt  is  a  base  metal,  of  a  lead-grey  colour,  brittle  and 
hard,  and  of  a  specific  gravity  from  7,000  to  7,700  This 
metal  is  rather  of  difficult  fusion. 

Tin  is  abase  metal,  of  a  white  colour,  a  little  more  ver- 
ging to  blue  than  that  of  silver.  It  is  very  soft,  pretty 
malleable  and  tractable  :  its  compactness  and  elasticity 
are  but  slight.  When  broken  or  bent,  or  when  compressed 
between  the  teeth,  it  makes  a  peculiar  crackling  noise, 
which  is  one  of  its  characteristic  properties.  The  specific 
gravity  of  tin  is  variable  from  7,216  to  7,731.  Its  gravity 
decreases  in  the  ratio  of  its  purity. 

Zinc  is  a  white  metal,  of  a  radiated  texture,  changing 
into  the  foliated.  It  is  of  a  middle  kind,  between  the  mal- 
leable and  brittle  metals,  and  may  be  extended  into  thin 
laminae,  at  least  between  metallic  cylinders  in  rolling 
cauls.  The  specific  gravity  of  this  metal  is  from  6,862 
to  7,215. 

Antimony  has  a  white  colour,  resembling  that  of  tin,  a 
foliated  radiated  texture,  and  is  very  brittle.  Its  specific 
gravity  varies  from  6,702  to  6,860.  In  the  air  it  loses 
little  of  its  metallic  splendour,  and  it  does  not  rust  in  the 
strict  sense  of  the  word. 

Manganese  is  a  white,  hard,  brittle  metal,  whose  speci- 
fic gravity  is?  found  to  be  from  6.853  to  7,000. 

Molybdena  has  a  pale  lead-grey  colour,  a  metallic  lustre, 
and  alamellated  fracture;  it  is  very  soft,  and  marks  paper 

F 


62 


e  aril  v.  leaving  a  s  laming  trace.  I:=  specifc  gravity  is 
between  4,138  and  4,569. 

Wolfram  is  a  metallic  substance,  of  modern  discovery, 
an  1  of  a  particular  kind,  whose  calx  or  oxyd  is  of  a  yellow 
colour,  and  one  of  the  constituent  parts  of  the  fossil  called 
tungsten. 

Another  distinct  metallic  substance,  only  a  few  years 
since  discovered  by  Klaproth,  is  the  Uranium.  The  oxyd 
of  uranium  has  a  lemon-yellow  colour,  is  fixed  in  fire,  and 
infusible  when  alone.  Ignition  changes  its  colour  to  a 
brownish-grey. 

We  are  likewise  indebted  to  Klaproth  for  the  discovery 
of  the  new  metal  called  by  him  Titanium,  or  Titanite.  It 
is  contained  in  the  mineral  called  red  shoerl  as  a  native 
oxyd.  The  colour  of  the  perfect  oxyd  of  titanium  is  red ; 
but  when  kept  in  violent  ignition  upon  coals,  and  by  a 
greater  degree  of  disoxydation,  it  gradually  assumes  a 
yellowish,  blueish,  and  blackish  hue. 

Tellurium  is  a  metal  of  a  white  colour,  like  tin,  inclining 
to  lead-grey.  It  is  brittle  and  friable  ;  possesses  a  lamellar 
texture,  and  considerable  metallic  lustre :  is  one  of  the 
most  easily  fusible  metals,  and  exhibits  a  crystallized  sur- 
face when  slowly  cooling  after  fusion.  Its  specific  gravity 
is  6:115. 

Chrome  is  a  white  metal,  inclining  to  grey,  very  brittle, 
ani  crvstallizame  at  a  a  el-va;ei  t  map  mature  in  feathered 
ftiaments  on  the  surface. 

The  minerals  to  be  found  in  England  are  both  curious 
and  useful.  Amber,  jet,  vitriol,  and  alum,  are  found  in 
considerable  quantities ;  the  cannel-coal  approaches  nearly 
to  the  beauty  of  jet,  and  even  the  common  coal  for  firing 
is  if  a  suoormr  nature.  Tai  Eaglisa  earth  ani  gravel  are 
of  the  best  quality  ;  and  stones,  slates,  flagsT  and  other 
fossils  necessary  forbuilding,  are  in  great  abundance.  Tin 
is  another  article  in  which  England,  from  the  time  of  the 
Phenicians,  has  always  had  the  pre-eminence.  The  county 
of  Cornwall  alone  produces  more  than  all  the  world  besides. 
The  lead-ore  is  richer  than  in  other  countries,  runs  more 
fluently  in  the  fire,  requires  less  trouble  and  expence  in 
working, and  is,  when  wrought,  very  fine  and  ductile.  The 
black  lead,  or  wadd,  fain:!  in  Cumberland,  is  a  mineral  of 
great  use  and  value  in  several  brancnes  of  trade  and  arts. 
Copper  and  iron,  are  also  found  in  great  plenty  :  and 


WORKS  OF  NATURE. 


63 


several  ores  of  these  metals,  particularly  in  Anglesey, 
have  of  late  been  discovered,  and  brought  into  use,  which 
were  unknown  before  the  recent  chemical  improvements. 


Sect.  V. — Of  Vegetables  or  Plants. 

Next  to  the  earth  itself,  we  may  consider  those  that  are 
maintained  on  its  surface  ;  which,  though  they  are  fasten- 
ed to  it,  yet  are  very  distinct  from  it  :  and  those  are  the 
whole  tribe  of  vegetables,  or  plants.  These  maybe  divided 
into  three  sorts,  herbs,  shrubs,  and  trees. 

Herbs  are  those  plants,  whose  stalks  are  soft,  and  have 
nothing  woody  in  them,  as  grass,  sowthistle,  and  hemlock. 
Shrubs  and  trees  have  all  wood  in  them  :  but  with  this 
difference,  that  shrubs  grow  not  to  the  height  of  trees, 
and  usually  spread  into  branches  near  the  surface  of  the 
earth  :  whereas  trees  generally  shoot  up  in  one  great  stem 
or  body,  and  then,  at  a  good  distance  from  the  earth, 
spread  into  branches  ;  thus,  gooseberries  and  currants  are 
shrubs  ;  oaks  and  cherries,  are  trees. 

Numerous  are  the  works  which  have  been  written, 
especially  in  later  times,  on  the  science  of  botany,  and 
various  systems  or  classifications  of  plants  have,  from  time 
to  time,  been  proposed  ;  but  the  sexual  system  of  Linnaeus 
is,  at  present,  generally  received.  This  naturalist  has 
drawn  a  continued  analogy  between  the  vegetable  econo- 
my and  that  of  the  animal;  and  has  derived  all  his  classes, 
orders,  and  genera,  from  the  number,  situation,  and  pro- 
portion of  the  parts  of  fructification.  In  twenty-four 
classes,  he  has  comprehended  every  known  genus  and 
species.  In  considering  a  plant  with  a  view  to  its  charac- 
teristics, or  distinguishing  features,  it  is  divided  by  Linneeus 
into  the  following  parts,  making  so  many  outlines,  to 
which  the  attention  of  the  botanical  observer  must  be 
directed  :  1.  Root  ;  2.  Trunk  ;  3.  Leaves  ;  4.  Props  ;  5. 
Fructification  ;  6.  Inflorescence.  1.  The  root  consists  of 
two  parts,  the  caudex  and  the  radicula.  The  eaudex,  or  stump, 
is  the  body  or  knob,  of  the  root,  from  which  the  trunk  and 
branches  ascend,  and  the  fibrous  roots  descend  ;  and  is 
either  solid,  bulbous,  or  tuberous  ;  solid,  as  in  trees  and 
other  examples  ;  bulbous,  as  in  tulips,  &c.  ;  tuberous,  as 
in  potatos,  &c.    The  radicula  is  the  fibrous  part  of  the 


64 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OP  KNOWLEDGE. 


root  branching  from  the  caudex.  2.  The  trunk,  which 
includes  the  branches,  is  that  part  which  rises  immediate- 
ly from  the  caudex,  in  either  herbaceous,  shrubby,  or  arbo- 
rescent ;  and  admits  of  several  other  distinctions,  accord- 
ing to  its  shape,  substance,  surface,  &c.  3.  The  leaves  are 
either  simple,  as  those  that  adhere  to  the  branch  singly  ; 
or  compound,  as  when  several  expand  from  one  footstalk. 
Leaves  are  farther  described  by  various  terms,  indicative 
of  their  form  and  outline.  4.  The  props,  those  external  part  s 
which  strengthen,  support,  or  defend  the  plants  on  which 
they  are  found,  or  serve  to  facilitate  some  necessary  secre- 
tion ;  as,  the  petiolus,  or  footstalk  of  the  leaf ;  the  pedun- 
culus,  or  footstalk  of  the  flower  ;  the  stipula,  or  husk,  that  is, 
the  small  leaves  that  generally  surround  the  stalk  at  its 
divisions  ;  cirrhus,  or  tendril ;  thepubes,  or  down  ;  the  arma, 
or  defensive  weapon,  as  thorns.  5.  The  fructifications,  or 
mode  of  fruit-bearing.  6.  The  inflorescence,  or  mode  by 
which  the  flowers  are  joined  to  the  several  peduncles. 

In  plants  there  is  an  infinite  diversity  ;  some  require  a 
long  succession  of  ages  to  bring  them  to  perfection,  while 
others  attain  their  full  maturity  in  a  few  hours  ;  some  are 
of  immense  magnitude,  while  others  are  of  an  inferior  sta- 
ture, descending  by  gradation  till  they  become  too  minute 
to  be  cognizable  by  the  senses.  The  mighty  baobob  of 
Senegal,  described  by  Adanson,  whose  stem  is  75  feet  in 
circumference,  stands  a  stately  monument  on  the  face  of 
the  earth  for  many  thousands  of  years  ;  while  the  mush- 
room, which  it  much  resembles  in  form,  springs  up  in  a 
day,  perfects  its  seeds,  and  is  withered  to-morrow  ;  and 
when  we  carry  our  views  still  farther,  into  that  immense 
profound  of  minuteness  which  has  but  of  late  been  partly 
laid  open  to  us  by  the  invention  of  the  microscope — into 
the  class  of  mosses,  which  are  in  some  measure  cognizable 
by  the  naked  eye — and  still  farther,  into  the  more  minute 
class  of  plants  denominated  mould,  which,  even  in  those  of 
the  largest  species,  are  too  small  to  have  their  parts  cog- 
nizable by  the  naked  eye,  and  which,  when  viewed  by  the 
best  microscopes,  discover  a  series  of  existences  diminish- 
ing by  a  regular  gradation,  like  stars  in  the  galaxy  under 
the  be3t  telescopes,  till  they  are  lost  in  the  infinity  of  mi- 
nuteness, leaving  every  reason  to  believe,  that,  could  the 
magnifying  powers  of  our  instruments  be  augmented  a 
thousand  fold,  we  should  still  find  ourselves  as  far  from 


WORKS  OF  NATURE. 


65 


discovering  the  termination  of  this  series  of  infinite  dimi- 
nution, as  we  were  at  the  commencement  of  our  imperfect 
survey.  The  world  that  we  see,  therefore,  seems  to  be 
but  a  very  small  part  of  that  which  exists  ;  our  feeble  op- 
tics are  capable  of  taking*  in  scarcely  a  point  of  that  uni- 
verse which  surrounds  us  ;  and  our  perfect  understandings 
can  scarcely  obtain  a  glimpse  of  that  infinite  power  and 
wisdom  which  regulates  the  whole.  Among  this  infinity 
of  objects,  however,  we  can  clearly  perceive  the  most  per- 
fect regularity  and  order  pervading  every  part  ;  and  that 
all  the  operations  of  nature  proceed  with  invariable  steadi- 
ness to  effect  the  purposes  for  which  they  have  been 
designed. 

Thus  we  see  that,  all  animate  objects,  from  the  largest 
that  has  been  discovered  on  this  globe,  to  the  smallest 
that  can  ever  be  made  to  be  perceptible  to  us,  invariably 
proceed  from  other  animated  objects  of  the  same  kind, 
although  they  appear  at  times  under  such  disguised  forms, 
as  not  to  be  at  first  sight  cognizable  by  us.  This  rule 
applies  to  vegetables  as  well  as  animals.  The  plant  of 
mould,  which,  even  when  it  hath  attained  its  full  stature, 
can  scarcely  be  perceived  as  a  point  under  our  microscopes 
of  the  highest  magnifying  power,  we  have  every  reason 
to  be  satisfied,  produces  its  seeds  in  as  regular  order, 
which  ripen  at  their  appointed  period,  with  the  same  regu- 
larity as  those  of  the  mighty  baobob  ;  but  while  this 
remains  a  stately  monument  upon  the  surface  of  this  earth, 
and  sees  thousands  of  generations  of  men  succeed  each 
other,  and  successively  shelter  themselves  under  the  pro- 
tecting shade  of  its  spreading  branches,  we  observe  the 
mould  spring  up,  perfect  its  seeds,  scatter  them  in  imper- 
ceptible myriads  in  the  air,  and  disappear  within  the  short 
space  of  one  hour  :  so  that  during  the  short  period  of  our 
existence  here,  many  myriads  of  generations  of  mould 
have  succeeded  each  other.  Time  itself,  then,  when  the 
universe  is  viewed  as  a  whole,  can  only  be  considered  as  a 
relative  object.  Shall  man,  then,  a  being  who  cannot 
comprehend  fully  the  nature  of  a  single  object  around 
him,  dare  proudly  to  lift  up  his  face,  and  pretend  to  decide 
concerning  possibilities  and  the  powers  of  nature  !  His 
proper  province  is  to  be  humble,  and  adore  ! 

The  plants  with  which  we  are  best  acquainted,  may  be 
arranged  into  three  grand  divisions.  The  first  are  those 
f2 


66 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


whose  roots  and  stems  remain  for  many  years,  which 
comprehends  all  the  varieties  of  trees  and  shrubs.  These, 
for  the  most  part,  require  several  years  to  bring  them  to  a 
state  of  puberty  (if  that  phrase  may  be  admitted),  when 
they  begin  to  put  forth  flowers,  and  perfect  their  seeds  ; 
after  which  time  they  usually  continue  to  produce  an  an- 
nual crop  of  flowers  and  seeds  for  a  long  period  of  time  ; 
the  fruit  in  general  succeeding  the  flowers,  and  perfecting 
their  seeds  in  the  same  year :  but  to  this  rule  there  are 
several  exceptions.  In  a  few  instances,  the  seeds  do  not 
attain  to  maturity  in  the  same  season  that  the  flower  is 
produced ;  but,  continuing  upon  the  tree  the  whole  winter 
in  an  immature  state,  without  being  killed,  they  advance 
in  the  second  season,  and  then  only  perfect  their  seeds  ; 
instances  of  which  are  to  be  found  in  the  juniper  and 
orange-tree.  Others  continue  to  advance  for  several  years, 
as  usual,  without  showing  fruit ;  and  when  at  length  they 
reach  that  state  of  maturity,  they  then  flower,  and,  having 
perfected  their  seeds,  they  decay,  and  flower  no  more, 
dying  away  like  annual  plants  ;  an  example  of  which  is 
to  be  found  in  the  cabbage-tree  of  tropical  regions.  Some 
are  scarcely  ever  (perhaps  never)  known  to  produce 
either  flowers  or  seeds  of  any  sort,  but  admit  of  being  pro- 
pagated by  some  other  means  ;  instances  of  which  are  to 
be  found  in  the  English  elm,  the  jack  or  bread-fruit  tree  of 
India,  and  many  others. 

The  second  division  of  plants  are  those  that  have  a  pe- 
rennial root,  from  which  stalks  are  sent  forth  annually, 
which  usually  produce  flowers,  perfect  their  seeds  in  the 
summer,  and  die  down  to  the  ground  at  the  approach  of 
winter.  The  stems  of  these  are  for  the  most  part  of  a 
similar  structure  and  consistence  with  those  of 

The  third  class,  or  annuals,  from  the  seeds  of  which, 
if  sown  in  the  spring,  stalks  spring  up,  which  produce 
flowers  and  seeds  the  same  season  ;  after  the  perfecting 
of  which,  the  stalks  decay  and  die  entirely  away.  Bien- 
nials can  only  be  viewed  as  a  diversity  of  these  that  have  - 
not  sufficient  length  of  season  to  bring  them  to  perfection 
in  one  year. 

Whether  distinctions,  similar  to  these,  take  place  among 
those  minute  tribes  of  plants  which  we  call  microscopical, 
it  exceeds  our  power  at  present  to  determine.  From  the 
short  period  of  their  existence,  we  have  been  generally 


WORKS  OF  NATURE. 


67 


inclined  to  think  that  they  are  all  similar  in  quality  to 
annuals  ;  that  is  to  say,  that  they  flower  but  once,  and  die 
down  immediately  after  they  have  once  perfected  their 
seeds.  Yet,  who  dares  pretend  to  say,  that  the  plant  of 
mould,  which  exists  perhaps  but  one  of  our  hours,  may  not 
produce  in  that  period  many  thousands  of  successions  of 
ripe  seeds,  each  of  which  has  taken  its  due  season  to  ripen 
like  those  of  the  baobob,  which  flourishes  on  our  globe  for 
hundreds  of  ages  \  for  the  same  infinite  power  which  has 
decreed  that  the* total  duration  of  this  plant  shall  be  limited 
to  an  hour,  may  also  have  decreed,  lhat  the  maturation  of 
its  seeds,  and  the  completion  of  a  period  that  to  it  should 
be  similar  to  that  of  our  year,  should  be  accomplished  in 
the  thousandth  part  of  a  second  of  our  time. 

All  plants  seem  to  grow  in  the  same  manner :  the  genial 
warmth  of  the  sun,  the  refreshment  of  the  rains,  the  same 
soils  appear  to  suit  their  respective  species  ;  and,  upon  a 
superficial  glance,  they  seem  to  have  the  same  common 
parts.  A  chymical  analysis  discovers  the  same  constituent 
principles  in  all,  that  is  to  say,  calcareous  earth,  oil,  water, 
and  air,  with  a  portion  of  iron,  to  which  they  owe  their 
beautiful  colours.  Yet,  although  composed  of  similar 
materials,  their  juices  to  the  eye,  and  to  the  taste,  appear 
as  various  as  their  forms.  The  soporific  milk  of  the  poppy, 
the  acrid  but  equally  milky  juice  of  the  sponge,  the  acid 
of  the  sorel,  the  saccharine  sap  of  the  sycamore  and 
maple,  and  the  resin  of  the  tribe  of  pines,  bear  no  resem- 
blance to  each  other. 

The  inward  texture  of  plants  is  as  regular  and  various 
as  their  external  forms  are  elegant  and  well  proportioned. 
The  root,  trunk,  branch,  leaf,  flower,  fruit,  and  seed,  have 
each  its  peculiar  character  and  form.  No  part  in  the 
contexture  of  the  smallest  fibre  is  unfinished,  but  is  formed 
with  the  most  minute  exactness.  The  seeds  of  plants 
have  the  appearance  of  shells,  unlike  in  form,  and  diversi- 
fied with  spots  and  stripes.  Every  seed  possesses  a 
reservoir  of  nutriment,  designed  for  the  growth  of  the 
future  plant.  This  is  the  matter  prepared  by  nature  for 
the  reproduction  and  continuation  of  the  whole  species. 
This  nutriment  consists  of  starch,  mucilage,  or  oil,  within 
the  coat  of  the  seed,  or  of  sugar  and  subacid  pulp  in  the 
fruit,  which  belongs  to  it.  The  sections  of  the  various 
kinds  of  trees  are  crossed  with  the  greatest  number  of 


68 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


regular  figures  which  the  imagination  can  conceive. 
The  lines  which  form  the  texture  of  fir-trees,  are  distant ; 
but  those  of  oak,  are  remarkably  distinct,  close,  and 
compact.  And  this  difference  of  texture  may  serve  to 
account  for  their  greater  or  less  solidity,  and  the  difference 
of  time  requisite  for  them  to  arrive  at  maturity. 

The  nourishment  of  plants  is  performed  chiefly  by  the 
tender  fibres  of  the  roots,  which  being  spread  under 
ground,  imbibe  from  the  moist  earth  juice  fit  for  their  nutri- 
ment, which  they  transmit  to  the  other  parts.  The 
impulse  by  which  the  juices  rise,  seems  to  be  capillary 
attraction  ;  for  the  roots  of  all  vegetables  are  supposed  to 
be  but  bundles  of  capillary  tubes  :  and  whether  we  con- 
sider earth,  water,  salt,  and  oil,  as  the  food  of  plants — or, 
with  Kir  wan,  that  coal  is  essential  to  that  food — or  with 
Ingenhouz,  that  it  is  vital  air  decomposed  into  fixed  air 
and  azote  :  still  that  food  must  be  formed  by  water  into 
an  emulsion,  capable  of  being  acted  upon  by  capillary 
attraction  ;  and  as  all  roots  are  but  assemblages  of  these 
tubes,  there  can  be  but  little  doubt  but  their  attraction  sup- 
plies the,  plant  with  its  first  food  ;  though  other  causes 
must  assist  in  carrying  it  to  the  tops  of  the  tallest  trees, 
such  as  dilatation  and  contraction,  by  the  successive  heat 
and  cold  of  day  and  night,  the  muscular  action  of  vascu- 
lar rings  around  the  tubes  irritated  to  contraction  by  the 
stimulant  sap,  &c.  The  interior  bark  conducts  the  nou- 
rishment supplied  by  the  earth. 

After  the  sap  has  thus  ascended  to  the  leaves,  it  there 
undergoes  certain  alterations,  and  is  converted  into  another 
fluid,  called  the  succus  proprius,  or  peculiar  juice ;  which, 
like  the  blood  in  animals, is  afterwards  employed  in  forming 
the  various  substances  found  in  plants.  The  leaves  may 
therefore  be  considered  as  the  digesting  organs  of  plants, 
and  as  equivalent  in  some  measure  to  the  stomach  and 
lungs  of  animals.  The  leaves  consequently  are  not  mere 
ornaments  ;  they  are  the  most  important  parts  of  the 
plant.  Accordingly  we  find,  that  whenever  we  strip  a  plant 
of  its  leaves,  we  strip  it  entirely  of  its  vegetating  powers 
till  new  leaves  are  formed  ;  for  when  the  leaves  of  plants 
are  destroyed  by  insects,  they  vegetate  no  longer,  and  their 
fruit  never  makes  any  further  progress  in  ripening,  but 
decays  and  dries  up. 

Leaves  on  one  side  draw  nutriment  from  the  air.  and 


WORKS  OF  NATURE, 


69 


perspire  on  the  other  ;  for  plants  as  well  as  animals,  per- 
spire, and,  in  both  cases,  this  function  is  essential  to  health. 
The  quantity  thej  perspire  varies,  according  to  the  extent 
of  the  surface  from  which  it  is  emitted,  the  temperature  of 
the  air,  the  time  of  the  day,  and  the  humidity  of  the 
atmosphere.  Leaves  are  the  greatest  part  of  the  surface, 
and  it  is  found  that  the  quantity  of  these  very  materially 
affect  the  quantity  of  perspiration  ;  and  this  process  is 
increased  or  diminished,  chiefly,  in  proportion  to  the 
increase  or  diminution  of  the  foliage  of  vegetables.  The 
degree  of  heat  in  which  the  plant  is  kept,  also  varies  the 
quantity  of  matter  perspired  ;  thus  being  greater,  in  pro- 
portion to  the  greater  heat  of  the  surrounding  atmosphere. 
The  degree  of  light  has  likewise  considerable  influence  in 
this  respect  ;  for  plants  uniformly  perspire  most  in  the 
forenoon,  though  the  temperature  of  the  air,  in  which  they 
ire  placed,  should  be  unvaried.  A  plant  also  exposed  to 
the  rays  of  the  sun,  has  its  perspiration  increased  to  a 
much  greater  degree  than  if  it  had  been  exposed  to  the 
same  heat  under  the  shade.  Finally,  the  perspiration  of 
vegetables  is  increased  in  proportion  as  the  atmosphere  is 
dry,  or,  in  other  words,  diminished  in  proportion  as  the 
atmosphere  is  humid.  The  more  vigorous  and  healthy  the 
plant,  the  more  copious  the  perspiration  ;  this  function, 
like  the  rest,  depending  much  on  the  vital  energy.  Ex- 
cessive perspiration  seems  to  hurt,  and  even  sometimes  to 
destroy,  vegetables  ;  defective  perspiration  is  equally  inju- 
rious. It  is  also  found,  that  this  function  is  performed, 
chiefly,  if  not  altogether,  by  the  leaves  and  young  shoots. 
That  it  may  be  properly  carried  on,  all  leaves  are  decidu- 
ous; in  those  trees  called  ever-greens,  there  being  a  constant 
succession  of  leaves,  to  prevent  the  organ  of  perspiration 
from  becoming  rigid. 

A  quantity  of  moisture  is  absorbed  by  plants,  when 
exposed  to  a  humid  atmosphere.  This  absorption,  as  well 
as  the  perspiration,  is  performed  by  the  leaves  ;  but  in  what 
manner  has  not  yet  been  ascertained.  Experiments  made 
by  M.  Guettard,  show  that  perspiration  is  more  consider- 
able from  the  upper,  than  from  the  under,  surface  of  the 
leaves. 

Plants  in  general  are  known  to  receive  and  transpire 
more,  in  equal  time,  than  large  animals.  It  has  been 
found  by  accurate  calculation,  and  repeated  i xperiments, 


TO 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


'.hat  a  plant  of  the  sun-flower  receives  and  perspires, 5  in 
twenty -four  hours,  seventeen  times  more  than  a  man. 

Some  botanists  have  conceived,  that  plants,  as  well  as 
animals,  have  a  regular  circulation  of  their  fluids.  Others 
think  this  very  improbable.  On  both  sides,  recourse  has 
been  had  to  experiments,  and  from  these  conclusions, 
perfectly  opposite,  have  been  deduced  ;  so  that  no  certain 
conclusion  can  be  drawn  on  this  head. 

Light  has  great  effect  on  vegetation.  Plants  that  grow 
in  the  shade,  or  in  darkness,  are  pale,  and  without  colour ; 
and  the  more  they  are  exposed  to  the  light,  the  more 
colour  they  acquire. 

Vegetables  are  not  only  indebted  to  light  for  their  co- 
lour ;  their  taste  and  odour  are  derived  from  the  same 
source.  Hence  it  happens  that  hot  climates  are  the  native 
countries  of  perfumes,  odoriferous  fruits,  and  aromatic 
resins. 

The  action  of  light  on  the  organs  of  plants,  causes  them 
to  pour  out  streams  of  pure  air  from  the  surfaces  of  their 
leaves,  while  exposed  to  the  sun  ;  whereas,  on  the  con 
trary,  when  in  the  shade,  and  at  night,  they  emit  air  of  a 
noxious  quality. 

The  various  secretions  of  vegetables,  as  of  odour,  fruit, 
gum,  resin,  wax,  honey,  &c.  seem  brought  about  in  the 
same  manner  as  in  the  glands  of  animals ;  the  tasteless 
moisture  of  the  earth  is  converted  by  the  hop  plant  into  a 
bitter  juice  ;  as  by  the  caterpillar  in  the  nutshell,  the 
sweet  kernel  is  converted  into  a  bitter  powder.  While  the 
power  of  absorption  in  the  roots  and  barks  of  vege- 
tables is  excited  into  action  by  the  fluids  applied  to  their 
mouths,  like  the  lacteals  and  lymphatics  of  animals. 

The  individuals  of  the  vegetable  world  may  be .  consi- 
dered as  inferior  or  less  perfect  animals;  a  tree  is  a  congeries 
of  many  living  buds,  and  in  this  respect  resembles  the 
branches  of  coralline,  which  are  a  congeries  of  a  multitude 
of  animals.  Each  of  these  buds  of  a  tree  has  its  proper 
leaves  or  petals  of  lungs,  produces  its  viviparous  or  its 
oviparous  offspring  in  buds  or  seeds  ;  has  its  own  roots, 
which  extending  down  the  stem  of  the  tree  are  interwoven 
With  the  roots  of  the  other  buds,  and  form  the  bark,  which 
is  the  only  living  part  of  the  stem,  is  annually  renewed, 
and  is  superinduced  upon  the  former  bark,  which  then  dies, 
and  with  its  stagnated  juices  gradually  hardening  into 


WORKS  OF  NATURJ2. 


72 


wood,  forms  the  concentric  circles,  which  we  see  in  blocks 
of  timber,  which  annual  rings  serve  as  natural  marks  to 
distinguish  the  age  of  trees. 

The  botanist  follows  nature  into  her  most  retired  abodes, 
and  views  her  in  her  simple  state,  and  native  majesty.  He 
remarks  some  of  her  productions  disfigured  by  cultivation 
in  gardens,  where,  amid  all  the  varieties  of  the  apple  and 
the  pear,  however  distinguished  by  their  colour,  size,  and 
taste,  he  observes,  that  there  is  but  one  original  species  of 
each,  and  that  they  have  respectively  but  one  radical  cha- 
racter. He  beholds  the  wonderful  prodigality  of  nature, 
even  in  the  composition  of  the  common  daisy,  which  con- 
sists of  more  than  two  hundred  flowers,  each  including  its 
respective  corolla,  germ,  pistil,  stamina,  and  seed,  as  per- 
fectly formed  as  those  of  a  complete  lily  or  hyacinth. — 
And  he  sees  this  diversity  as  fully  illustrated  in  the  different 
sorts  of  grass,  a  term  which,  although  it  commonly  conveys 
only  one  notion  to  the  vulgar  mind,  and  one  object  to  the 
undiscerning  eye,  consists  of  five  hundred  different  species, 
each  formed  with  infinite  beauty  and  variety.  From 
others  he  particularly  distinguishes  the  elegant  briza  media, 
so  common  in  the  fields,  and  so  remarkable  for  its  delicate 
hair-like  stem,  trembling  at  every  breeze  ;  the  anthoxanthum 
odoratum,  which  gives  its  fragrance  to  the  new -mown  hay  ; 
and  the  stipa  pennata  with  its  waving  plumes  resembling 
the  feathers  of  the  bird  of  paradise.  The  botanist  enjoys 
a  pleasing,  an  innocent  amusement,  most  agreeably  com- 
bined with  a  love  of  rural  retirement,  and  which  gives  a 
new  and  growing  interest  to  every  walk  and  ride,  in  the 
most  delightful  season  of  the  year,  indeed  man  cannot 
contemplate  the  vegetable  creation  without  recalling  the 
idea  of  beauty,  sweetness,  and  a  thousand  charms  that 
captivate  the  senses.  The  perfume  of  the  rose,  and  the 
stately  magnificence  of  the  forest,  successively  catch  his 
attention  and  deii^ht  him. 

The  number  of  species  of  plants  already  known  is  about 
twenty-five  thousand  :  and  botanists  suppose  that  double 
that  number,  at  least,  remain  to  be  discovered. 

The  different  vegetables  productions  are  no  less  useful 
than  numerous.  The  purposes  to  which  the  trees  of  Bri- 
tain are  applied,  are  well  known,  from  the  flexible  willow, 
which  forms  tire  oasket,  to  the  hardy  oak,  which  composes 
the  most  substantial  parts  of  a  ship  of  war.  guards  the 


ra 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


British  islands  from  foreign  invasion,  and  displays  to  the 
most  remote  countries,  the  greatness  of  our  maritime 
power.    All  possess  different  qualities,  adapted  to  their 
different  purposes.    The  meanest,  and  in  their  appearance 
the  most  unpleasant,  have  their  use  :  even  the  thistle  is 
not  only  the  food  of  some  animals,  but  is  serviceable  in 
making  glass.    There  is  scarcely  a  plant,  which  although 
rejected  as  food  by  some  animals,  is  not  eagerly  sought  by 
others.    The  horse  yields  the  common  water  hemlock  to 
the  goat,  and  the  cow  the  long-leafed  water  hemlock  to 
the  sheep.    The  goat  again  leaves  the  aconite,  or  bare- 
berries  to  the  horse.    The  uphorbia,  or  spurge,  so  noxious 
to  man,  is  greedily  devoured  by  some  of  the  insect  tribes. 
The  aloe  is  a  magazine  of  provisons  and  of  implements 
to  the  Indians,  who  inhabit  the  banks  of  the  Ohio  and  the 
Mississippi.    Some  plants,  as  rhubarb  and  opium,  alleviate 
the  tortures  of  pain  :  and  some,  as  the  quinquina,  or  Peru- 
vian bark,  can  subdue  the  rage  of  a  burning  fever.  Wheat, 
the  delicious  and  prolific  grain,  which  gives  to  the  inhabi- 
tants of  the  northern  world  their  wholesome  nutriment, 
grows  in  almost  every  climate.    Where  excessive  heat,  or 
other  causes,  prevent  it  from  coming  to  perfection,  its  place 
is  amply  supplied  by  the  bread-fruit,  the  cassavi-root,  and 
maize,  and  more  particularly  by  lice,  which  is  the  common 
aliment  of  that  great  portion  of  mankind  who  inhabit  the 
warm  regions  of  the  earth. — Every  meadow  in  the  vernal 
season  brings  forth  various  kinds  of  grass  ;  and  this  spon- 
taneous and  most  abundant  of  all  vegetable  productions 
requires  only  the  labour  of  the  husbandman  to  collect  its 
harvest.    The  iron-wood,  solid  as  marble,  furnishes  the 
Chahetian  with  his  long  spear  and  massy  club.    The  wild 
pine  of  Campeachy  retains  the  rain  water  in  its  deep  and 
capacious  leaves,  not  less  for  the  refreshment  of  the  tree 
itself,  than  of  the  thirsty  native  of  a  burning  soil.  The 
cocoa  of  the  East  and  West  Indies  answers  many  of  the 
most  useful  purposes  of  life  to  the  natives  of  a  warm 
climate,    Its  bark  is  manufactured  into  cordage  and  cloth- 
ing, and  its  shell  into  useful  vessels  ;  its  kernel  affords  a 
pleasant  and  nutritive  food,  and  its  mfik%a  cooling  bever- 
age ;  its  leaves  are  used  for  covering  houses,  and  are 
worked  into  baskets  ;  and  its  boughs  are  of  service  to 
make  props  and  rafters.    The  rain-deer  of  the  Laplander, 
so  essential  to  his  support  and  subsistence,  could  not 


WORKS  OF  NATURE. 


73 


survive  through  the  tedious  winter,  without  the  lichen 
rangiferinus,  which  he  digs  from  beneath  the  snow.  On 
the  bleak  mountains  of  the  north,  the  pine,  the  fir,  the 
cedar,  and  many  of  the  resinous  trees  grow,  which  shelter 
man  from  the  snows  by  the  closeness  of  their  foliage,  and 
furnish  him  in  winter  with  torches  and  fuel  for  his  fireside. 
The  leaves  of  those  evergreen  trees  are  filliform,  and  thus 
are  adapted  to  reverberating  the  heat,  and  resisting  the 
violent  winds  which  beat  on  elevated  situations. — All  these 
productions,  and  the  various  trees  which  produce  icork  and 
emit  resia,  turpentine,  pitch,  gums,  and  balsam,  either 
supply  some  constant  necessity,  obviate  some  inconvenience, 
or  contribute  to  some  use  or  gratification  of  the  natives  of 
the  soils  where  they  grow,  or  of  the  inhabitants  of  distant 
climates, 

Sect.  VI. — Of  Animak. 

We  are  now  come  to  consider  the  last,  the  noblest,  and 
the  most  beautiful  part  of  the  creation  ;  the  creatures  for 
whom  this  earth  seems  to  have  been  entirely  formed,  and 
for  whose  repast  or  use  the  whole  of  its  unintelligent  pro- 
ductions appear  to  have  been  brought  forth  ;  these  are  the 
animated  tenants  of  our  globe. 

When  we  compare  animals  and  vegetables  together, 
each  in  their  most  perfect  state,  nothing  can  be  easier  than 
to  distinguish  them.  The  plant  is  confined  to  a  particular 
spot,  and  exhibits  no  mark  of  consciousness  or  intelligence : 
the  animal,  on  the  contrary,  can  remove  at  pleasure  from 
one  place  to  another,  is  possessed  of  consciousness,  and 
a  high  degree  of  intelligence.  But,  on  approaching  the 
contiguous  extremities  of  the  animal  and  vegetable  king- 
dom, these  striking  differences  gradually  disappear,  the 
objects  acquire  a  greater  degree  of  resemblance,  and  at 
last  approach  each  other  so  nearly,  that  it  is  scarcely  pos- 
sible to  decide  whether  some  of  those  species,  which  are 
situated  on  the  very  boundary,  belong  to  the  animal  or 
vegetable  kingdom.  Indeed  we  find  the  vegetable,  animal, 
and  mineral  kingdoms  so  closely  connected,  like  the  links 
of  a  chain,  that  there  is  no  possibility  of  finding  a  disjunc- 
tion in  any  part,  nor  saying  with  precision  where  the  one 
ends  and  the  other  begins,  so  nearly  do  they  approach 
each  other  in  the  extremes  of  each  class, 


74 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


The  term  animal,  in  a  general  sense,  is  applied  to  every 
thing  that  is  supposed  to  be  alive  to  the  sensations  of  pain 
and  pleasure.  Under  the  name  of  animal,  therefore,  are 
included  men,  quadrupeds,  birds,  fishes,  reptiles,  and  in- 
sects. Animal  literally  means  a  living  thing  ;  but.  plants 
live.  Linnaeus  has  formed  a  climax  of  the  grand  depart- 
ments of  creation.  Stones  grow  ;  vegetables  grow  and 
live  :  animals  grow,  live,  and  feel. 

Various  are  the  corporeal  forms,  and  great  are  the 
peculiarities  of  organization  of  the  different  animals  which 
inhabit  the  globe  ;  and  equally  various  are  their  intellec- 
tual powers  ;  beginning  with  man,  who  forms  the  highest 
link  in  the  chain,  and  descending  by  an  almost  impercep- 
tible diminution  of  mental  powers,  through  an  innumerable 
series  of  existence,  and  ending  at  last  in  mere  animation 
alone,  with  a  seeming  privation  of  all  mental  perception 
whatever. 

As  an  animal,  man  is  strikingly  distinguishable  from 
the  rest  of  the  creatures  of  the  earth,  on  account  of  the 
ingenuity  with  which  lie  employs  the  productions  of  nature 
for  his  accommodation  and  comfort.  He  is  also  particularly 
distinguishable  by  the  originality  of  his  ideas.  Instincts, 
in  common  with  brutes,  make  up  a  part  of  his  character  ; 
but  he  is  principally  the  creature  of  experience  and  reflec- 
tion. When  an  infant  comes  into  the  world,  it  is  the  most 
helpless  of  all  creatures  :  no  danger  alarms  it,  nor  can  it 
make  the  smallest  effort  to  preserve  itself. — A  tiger  may 
approach  it  without  occasioning  terror  ;  nor  would  it 
attempt  to  screen  itself  when  the  lion's  mouth  is  opened 
to  devour  it.  The  voice  of  the  mother  is  not  understood 
for  many  weeks  ;  and  it  is  but  by  slow  degrees  that  it 
acquires  knowledge,  in  consequence  of  the  gradual  deve- 
lopement  of  its  reasoning  faculties  ;  but  as  its  progress  is 
more  slow,  so  its  ultimate  attainments  are  proportionally 
greater  than  that  of  other  animals.  The  chicken,  within 
the  first  eight  days  of  its  life,  seems  to  have  made  nearly 
the  whole  mental  acquirements  it  is  ever  capable  of  attain- 
ing :  but  no  period  of  human  life  can  be  assigned  when 
the  mental  progress  of  man  is  at  a  stand. — Man  alone  is 
able  to  form  an  idea  of  an  abstract  proposition,  or  to  reason 
about  distant  occurrences.  He  alone  can  reason  from 
consequences  to  remote  causes,  and  can  from  the  creature 
trace  an  idea  of  the  Creator.    A  sense  of  religion,  then, 


WORKS  OF  NATURE. 


75 


is  the  characteristic  peculiarity  which  decisively  marks  a 
separation  between  man  and  all  other  animals. 

But  as  the  understanding  of  man,  and  the  structure  of 
his  frame,  will  occupy  the  following  sections,  we  will  in 
this  confine  ourselves  to  a  view  of  the  other  parts  of  ani- 
mated nature. 

Animals,  like  vegetables,  differ  in  their  sizes  and  pow- 
ers, with  respect  to  the  peaces  of  their  growth.  Those 
produecd  in  a  dry  sunny  soil,  are  strong  and  vigorous, 
though  not  luxuriant :  those  again  produced  in  a  warm 
and  moist  climate,  are  luxuriant  and  tender,  and  much 
larger  than  those  produced  in  other  countries  ;  as  in  the 
internal  parts  of  South  America  and  Africa,  particularly 
in  the  former  place,  where  the  earth-worm  is  near  a  yard 
long,  and  an  inch  thick  ;  the  serpents  sometimes  forty 
feet  in  length  ;  the  bats  as  large  as  rabbits  ;  toads  bigger 
than  ducks  ;  and  the  spider  equal  in  size  to  the  English 
sparrow.  But  in  the  frozen  regions  of  the  north,  animals 
are  scarce  ;  and  what  few  there  are,  except  the  bear, 
are  not  above  half  the  size  of  those  in  the  temperate 
zone. 

Animals  are  also  found  to  vary  considerably  according 
to  their  food  or  climate  ;  and  there  are  but  few  of  the  ani- 
mal kingdom,  (and  these  are  they  that  are  the  most  useful) 
which  are  found  capable  of  attending  man  in  his  pere- 
grinations  over  the  globe.  In  uncultivated  nature,  the 
animal  kingdom  exceeds  the  vegetable  ;  but,  in  a  state  of 
improvement,  the  interest  of  man,  so  directs  it,  that  the 
vegetable  kingdom  should  gain  the  ascendancy  ;  for,  on  a 
review  of  the  animal  and  vegetable  world,  we  find  but 
few  animals  which  are  intrinsic  ally  serviceable  to  man  ; 
while,  on  the  other  hand,  numbers  of  them  are  noxious  to 
his  food,  and  inveterate  enemies  to  his  interest.  But 
among  the  vegetable  world,  very  few  are  noxious  ;  and  the 
greater  part  of  them  yield  either  food,  medicine,  or  some 
other  valuable  article.  Therefore,  it  always  has,  and  will 
remain  to  be,  the  interest  of  man,  to  diminish  the  number 
of  animals,  and  increase  that  of  vegetables  ;  and  in  assist- 
ance to  his  endeavours,  Providence  has  wisely  ordered  it 
that  one  animal  shall  subsist  on  another  ;  for  were  they  to 
live  entirely  on  vegetables,  myriads  would  soon  become 
extinct  for  want  of  support. 

The  number  of  animals,  which  are  immediately  serviee- 


76 


10UNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


able  to  man,  (exclusive  of  the  smaller,  among  the  birds 
and  fishes,  which  serve  for  food)  does  not  extend  to  one 
hundred  ;  while  we  are  acquainted  with  no  less  than 
twenty  thousand  ;  and  even  this  great  number  compre- 
hends but  a  small  portion  of  animated  nature.  Not  only 
the  earth,  air,  and  sea,  teem  with  myriads  of  living  crea- 
tures, but  also  every  vegetable,  and  each  single  leaf,  is 
covered  with  an  endless  number  of  inhabitants,  whose 
various  forms  and  properties  have  afforded  matter  of  asto- 
nishment to  the  microscopic  observer. 

Animals  are  nourished  by  food,  taken  in  at  the  mouth, 
digested  in  the  stomach,  and  thence,  by  fit  vessels,  distri- 
buted over  the  whole  body  ;  but  of  the  process  by  which 
the  various  vegetable  productions,  which  form  the  food  of 
a  large  portion  of  animals,  is  converted  into  part  of  the 
animal,  we  are  totally  ignorant.  That  this  change  does 
take  place  we  know,  but  in  what  manner  we  know  not  r  ny 
more  than  the  animals  themselves  do,  whose  natural  organs 
perform  unknown  to  them  the  functions  that  are  necessary 
for  producing  these  changes. 

The  greatest  part  of  animals  have  five  senses,  viz. 
seeing,  hearing,  smelling,  tasting,  and  feeling.  These, 
and  the  way  of  nourishment  of  animals,  we  shall  more 
particularly  consider,  as  they  are  common  to  man  with 
beasts,  in  the  following  section. 

Animals  are  generally  divided  into  male  and  female,  and 
some  are  both  male  and  female,  and  are  called  hermaphro- 
dites, as  the  earth-worm,  and  some  others.  With  regard 
,o  their  manner  of  propagation,  they  are  divided  into  ovi* 
l  &rous,  bringing  forth  eggs  ;  and  viviparous^  bringing  forth 
their  young  alive. 

Linnaeus  divides  animals  according  to  their  internal 
structure.  Some  have  their  heart  with  two  ventricles,  and 
hot,  red  blood  :  viz.  Quadrupeds  and  birds  ;  others  have 
the  heart  with  one  ventricle,  and  cold,  red  blood,  viz. 
Amphibia  and  fishes  ;  the  former  being  furnished  with 
lungs,  and  the  fishes  with  gills.  Some  have  the  heart  with 
one  ventricle,  and  cold,  white  serum,  viz.  Insects  and 
worms  ;  the  former  being  furnished  with  feelers,  and  the 
latter  with  holders.  All  quadrupeds,  which  have  teats, 
are  distinguished  by  their  teeth.  These  form  the  follow- 
ing seven  orders  :  The  Primates  or  Principals,  w7hich  have 
four  cutting  teeth  in  each  jaw  j  the  Brutee  or  Brutes, 


WORKS  OF  NATURE 


77 


which  have  no  cutting  teeth  ;  the  Feree  or  Wild  Beasts, 
which  have  generally  six  cutting  teeth  in  each  jaw  ;  the 
Glires,  or  Dormice,  which  have  two  cutting  teeth  both 
above  and  below  ;  the  Pecora,  or  Cattle,  which  have  no 
cutting  teeth  above,  and  six  or  eight  below  ;  the  Bulluse, 
or  Beasts,  properly  so  called,  with  the  fore  teeth  blunt ; 
and  the  Cetae,  or  those  of  the  Whale  kind,  which  have 
cartilaginous  teeth.  This  is  the  brief  outline  of  this 
celebrated  naturalist's  arrangement,  the  names  of  the 
different  animals,  and  their  respective  classes,  occupying 
no  less  than  two  large  octavo  volumes  ;  but  the  natural 
division  of  animated  nature  is  universally  allowed  to  be  the 
five  following  classes  :  Quadrupeds,  birds,  fishes,  insects, 
and  amphibious  animals  ;  though  it  must  be  confessed 
that  this  distribution  is  not  exactly  defined  by  nature  ;  as 
there  are  many  animals  whose  forms  and  qualities  render  it 
difficult  to  reduce  them  to  any  one  of  these  classes. 

I.  Quadrupeds. — Quadrupeds  are  a  large  and  useful 
class  of  animals,  whose  generic  characters  are  these  ; 
their  bodies  are  covered  with  hair  ;  they  have  four  feet ; 
they  are  viviparous  ;  and  the  females  suckle  their  young. 

Quadrupeds  are  the  most  important  creatures  to  man, 
and  deserve  his  attention  more  than  the  inhabitants  of 
either  the  air  or  the  water.  They  inhabit  the  same  soil 
with  man  ;  and  among  them  are  found  beings  possessing 
a  greater  share  of  instinct  than  the  inhabitants  of  either 
air  or  water  ;  they  breathe  through  their  lungs  like  the 
human  species  ;  like  these  they  are  viviparous  :  they  have 
also  warm  red  blood  circulating  through  their  veins  ;  and 
however  mortifying  the  reflection  to  human  pride,  many  of 
them,  both  in  their  internal  and  external  form,  bear  a  strong 
resemblance  to  man  :  the  interior  structure  of  some  of  the 
ape  kind,  so  nearly  resembles  that  of  the  human  kind, 
that  anatomists  can  scarcely  discover  where  the  pecu- 
liarity exists. 

Though  the  characters  of  quadrupeds  are  so  obvious, 
yet  as  all  the  parts  of  nature  are  united  together  to  form 
one  grand  whole,  there  are  several  species,  which  seem  to 
be  of  an  equivocal  nature,  and  which  form  the  links  uniting 
different  animals  together  ;  as  the  bat  and  porcupine,  the 
former  of  which  possesses  wings,  and  the  latter  quills,  like 
birds ;  the  armadillo  is  covered  with  a  hard  shell,  by  which 


78  young  man's  book  of  knowledge. 

it  seems  to  partake  of  the  nature  of  insects  or  snails  ;  and 
the  seal  and  the  morse,  though  evidently  of  the  quadruped 
kind,  are  furnished  with  fins,  and  reside  almost  constantly 
in  the  water. 

Quadrupeds,  like  all  other  animals,  are  wisely  adapted 
by  Providence  to  their  respective  situations  and  natures. 
Those  which  turn  up  the  ground  in  pursuit  of  their  food,- 
have  sharp  snouts  ;  others,  which  require  a  keener  scent, 
as  dogs,  particularly  those  of  the  chace,  have  long  noses, 
whereby  the  olfactory  nerves  are  more  perfect  ;  while 
others,  of  a  rapacious  nature,  have  short  thick  noses, 
whereby  their  jaws  have  a  greater  muscular  power,  as  those 
of  the  lion  :  and  all  granivorous  animals  have  a  strong 
tendinous  ligament,  extending  from  the  head  to  the  middle 
of  the  back,  to  enable  them  to  hold  down  their  heads  to 
the  ground  ;  the  fore  teeth  of  these  animals  are  also  edged, 
for  the  purpose  of  cutting  their  food  ;  but  those  of  car- 
nivorous animals  are  sharp,  and  serve  rather  as  weapons 
of  offence.  Tn  both,  however,  the  surfaces  of  the  grinding 
teeth  are  unequal  and  jagged,  locking  into  each  other 
when  the  jaws  are  brought  into  contact.  The  stomach  of 
carnivorous  animals  is  also  small  and  glandular  ;  and 
affords  such  juices  as  are  best  adapted  to  digest  and  mace- 
rate its  contents ;  but  those  animals  which  subsist  on  a 
vegetable  diet,  have  four  stomachs  :  all  which  serve  as  so 
many  laboratories  to  prepare  the  food  for  the  nourishment 
of  the  body :  and,  in  general,  granivorous  animals,  whose 
food  is  easily  procured,  have  large  capacious  stomachs, 
and  capable  of  great  dilation  ;  whereas  carnivorous  crea- 
tures have  the  stomach  more  contracted,  and  the  intestines 
curtailed,  whereby  they  are  enabled  to  subsist  for  a  longer 
time  without  food.  Strong  large  animals,  which  are  neither 
formed  for  pursuit  nor  flight,  as  the  elephant,  rhinoceros, 
sea-horse,  &c.  have  thick  massy  legs  to  support  their 
unwieldy  bodies.  While  deer,  hares,  and  other  creatures, 
whose  safety  depends  on  flight,  and  who  are  beset  by 
numberless  enemies,  have  long,  slender,  but  muscular  legs. 
Those  formed  for  a  life  of  rapacity,  have  their  feet  armed 
with  sharp  claws,  which  in  some  species  are  retractile,  as 
those  of  the  cat ;  and,  on  the  contrary,  peaceful  animals 
are  generally  furnished  with  hoofs,  which  often  serve  as 
weapons  of  defence  ;  and  the  feet  of  those  which  subsist 
on  fish,  have  membranes  between  the  toes,  the  better  to 
enable  them  to  pursue  their  prey  in  the  watery  element. 


WORKS  OF  NATURE. 


79 


The  larger  species  of  quadrupeds  are,  in  general,  the 
most  harmless  and  inoffensive  ;  and,  as  if  sensible  of  their 
own  innocence,  they  possess  the  most  courage  ;  while  the 
more  rapacious  animals  are  inferior  to  those  in  size,  and 
also  m  courage  ;  and,  except  the  dog,  there  is  no  carnivo- 
rous quadruped  that  will  voluntarily  attack  another  animal 
when  the  odds  are  against  him.  Thus  nature  has  furnished 
the  most  inoffensive  animals  with  superior  size  and  strength; 
and  opposed  to  them  the  carnivorous  kinds,  which  possess 
more  cunning  and  agility,  whereby  an  equilibrium  is  pre- 
served between  the  numbers  of  the  different  kinds. 

The  carnivorous  animals  are  in  general  confined  to  their 
retreats  during  the  day,  and  commit  their  depredations  by 
night  ;  when  the  forest  resounds  with  the  tremendous 
roar  of  the  lion  ;  the  hideous  yell  of  the  tiger  ;  the  barking 
of  the  jackal ;  the  dismal  cry  of  the  hyaena  ;  and  the  hiss- 
ing of  the  serpent.  Most  of  these  kinds  of  animals  take 
their  prey  by  surprise  from  some  ambush,  where  they  lay 
in  wait,  more  than  by  a  regular  pursuit.  There  are  some, 
however,  which  pursue  in  companies,  mutually  encourag- 
ing each  other  by  their  cries,  as  the  jackal,  s}rgush,  wolf, 
and  dog.  Carnivorous  animals  will  sometimes  devour  the 
lesser  rapacious  species  ;  but  they  generally  prefer  the  flesh 
of  granivorous  creatures,  and  commit  iheir  devastations 
among  the  peaceful  domestic  flocks  and  herds.  The  most 
defenceless  creatures  have  different  methods  of  providing 
for  their  safety.  Some  find  protection  in  the  holes  they 
form  in  the  earth  ;  others  are  enabled  to  escape  their  pur- 
suers by  flight  ;  others,  again,  unite  for  their  mutual 
defence,  and  gain  by  numbers  what  they  want  individually 
in  strength  ;  and,  lastly,  others  avoid  their  enemies,  by 
placing  some  of  their  own  company  as  centinels,  to  warn 
them  of  the  first  approach  of  danger  ;  a  duty  in  which 
they  are  seldom  negligent,  and  for  the  neglect  of  which 
they  are  invariably  punished  by  the  rest. 

II.  Birds. — Birds,  next  to  quadrupeds,  seem  to  demand 
our  attention.  The  generic  characters  of  this  clas  of  ani- 
mals are  these  ;  the  body  is  covered  with  feathers,  and 
furnished  with  two  legs,  two  wings,  and  a  hard  horny  bill : 
and  the  females  are  oviparous. 

Birds  are  infinitely  more  numerous  in  their  different 
kinds  than  quadrupeds  ;  but  still  less  so  than  fishes,— 


80  YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

They  seem  designed  by  Providence  for  a  solitary  life ;  and 
though  inferior  to  the  brute  creation  in  the  powers  of  attack 
and  defence,  they  possess  a  greater  faculty  of  escape  ;  and 
the  greater  part  of  them  immediately  elude  their  enemies 
of  the  quadruped  and  reptile  nature,  by  an  serial  escape, 
for  which  all  parts  of  their  bodies  seem  admirably  adapted ; 
the  external  part  of  the  body  being  sharp  before,  swelling 
gradually,  and  terminating  in  a  large  spreading  tail,  which 
lenders  it  buoyant,  while  the  forepart  cleaves  the  air. 

The  clothing  of  these  animals  is  exactly  suited  to  their 
manner  of  life.  The  feathers  all  tend  backwards,  and 
neatly  and  closely  fold  over  each  other,  which  answer  the 
triple  purposes  of  warmth,  speed,  and  security.  Those 
placed  next  the  skin  are  furnished  with  a  warm  soft  down  ; 
while  the  exterior  ones  are  arrayed  with  double  beards, 
longer  at  one  end  than  the  other,  and  which  consists  of 
thin  little  laminae,  disposed  in  regular  lines  and  perfectly 
even  at  their  edges.  The  shaft  of  each  feather  is  formed 
of  a  thin  hollow  tube,  which  answers  the  purposes  of 
strength  and  lightness  ;  the  upper  part  being  filled  with 
soft  pith,  to  afford  nourishment  to  the  beards.  They  are 
so  placed,  that  the  largest  and  strongest,  as  those  of  the 
wings  and  tail,  have  the  greatest  share  of  duty  to  perform 
in  flight.  The  upper  external  side  of  each  single  filament, 
in  the  beard  of  the  feather,  is  furnished  with  hairs  on  its 
edges,  which  lock  into  those  of  the  next  filament,  and  thus 
form  an  entire,  but  light  smooth  surface.  Birds  are  also 
furnished  with  certain  glands  upon  their  rumps,  which  con- 
tain a  quantity  of  oil,  which  they  press  out  with  their 
beaks,  and  rub  over  their  feathers,  in  order  to  smooth  them, 
and  enable  them  to  turn  off  the  water.  Aquatic  birds,  as 
the  duck,  goose,  &c.,  have  a  greater  quantity  of  this  oil ; 
but  those  who  live  principally  under  cover,  and  seldom 
expand  their  wings,  have  a  less  proportion  of  it  ;  as  the 
common  hen,  whose  feathers  are  impervious  to  every 
shower  of  rain. 

Birds  possess  a  perfection  of  sight  far  superior  to  that  of 
either  man  or  brute,  which  is  necessary  for  their  safety  and 
support.  Were  it  less  perfect,  birds  of  rapid  flight  would 
strike  against  every  object  in  their  way,  and  be  unable  to 
discover  their  proper  food  at  a  distance.  The  kite  darts  on 
its  prey  from  the  greatest  heights  to  which  it  ascends ;  and 
the  hawk  will  discover  a  lark  at  a  distance  too  great  iot 
human  perception. 


WORKS  OF  NATURE. 


81 


Aquatic  birds  have  webbed  feet,  or  membranes  between 
their  toes,  to  assist  them  in  swimming  ;  other  birds  have 
their  toes  disjoined,  the  better  to  enable  them  to  catch  their 
prey,  or  cling  to  the  branches  of  trees.  Birds  with  long 
legs,  have  also  long  necks,  to  enable  them  to  pick  up  their 
food  ;  but  some  aquatic  birds,  as  the  swan  and  goose,  have 
long  necks  and  short  legs. 

Birds  are  destitute  of  urinary  bladders,  yet  they  have 
large  kidneys  and  ureters,  by  which  the  secretion  of  urine 
is  performed,  and  then  carried  away  with  the  other  excre- 
ments, in  one  common  canal ;  by  which  means  they  are 
less  obnoxious  to  diseases  than  quadrupeds,  who  drink 
much,  and  have  a  separate  passage  for  the  ejection  of  the 
fluid  excrement. 

The  greater  number  of  birds  pair  at  the  approach  of. 
spring  ;  and  the  compact  entered  into,  is  inviolably  observ- 
ed, for  that  season  at  least  ;  but  some  species  enter  into 
this  connection  for  years,  arid  even  for  life. 

All  birds  are  oviparous,  and  the  hens  of  some  species 
will  lay  eggs  though  they  be  not  accompanied  by  the 
male  ;  as  the  common  domestic  hen;  but  eggs  of  this  kind 
are  always  sterile,  never  producing  live  animals.  Every 
bird  builds  its  nest  in  such  a  manner,  and  with  such  mate- 
rials, as  best  answer  its  own  purpose  and  situation  ;  thus 
the  wren,  which  lays  a  great  number  of  eggs,  requires  a 
very  warm  nest,  as  her  body  is  not  sufficiently  large  to 
cover  the  whole  of  them  ;  but  the  crow  and  eagle  are  less 
solicitous  m  the  warmth  of  the  nest,  as  the  small  number 
of  eggs  they  lay,  and  largeness,  and  heat  of  their  bodies, 
afford  the  eggs  sufficient  warmth.  The  same  bird  also, 
when  in  a  cold  climate,  lines  its  nest  with  more  care  and 
warmer  materials  than  in  a  warmer  climate.  The  male 
likewise  of  most  birds,  during  the  season  of  incubation, 
supplies  the  place,  of  the  female,  in  her  absence  from  the 
eggs  ;  and  supplies  her  with  food  during  the  time  of  her 
sitting. 

Those  birds  which  are  hatched  early  in  the  season, 
always  prove  more  vigorous  and  strong  than  such  as  have 
been  delayed  till  the  middle  of  summer.  The  number  of 
eggs  which  a  bird  will  lay  cannot  be  exactly  ascertained-; 
but  it  is  well  known  that  a  female  bird,  which  would  have 
laid  but  two  or  three  eggs  at  most,  will,  on  her  eggs  being 
removed,  lay  above  ten  or  a  dozen.     A  common  hen,  if 


YOUNG  MAN!S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

properly  fed,  will  produce  above  a  hundred  eggs,  from  th& 
beginning  of  spring,  to  the  end  of  autumn.  Nature  has 
wisely  ordered  it,  that  the  smallest  and  weakest  birds,  and, 
in  general,  all  those  which  are  most  serviceable  to  man, 
are  the  most  prolific,  while  the  strong  and  rapacious  kinds 
are  marked  with  sterility. 

Birds  are,  in  all  countries,  longer  lived  than  the  brute 
creation  ;  the  linnet  will  often  live  fourteen  or  fifteen  years  ; 
the  bullfinch  twentjr  ;  the  goose  fourscore  ;  while  swans, 
eagles,  and  some  others,  have  been  known  to  live  two,  or 
even  three  hundred  years. 

The  number  of  species  of  birds,  which  mankind  has 
rendered  domestic,  are  but  few,  as  the  peacock,  turkey, 
common  hen,  guinea  hen,  pigeon,  swan,  goose,  duck,  and 
guinea  duck,  being  only  nine,  while  the  number  of  all  the 
species  known  exceed  fifteen  hundred. 

III.  Amphibious  Animals  are  all  those  who  are  capable  of 
living  either  on  land  or  in  the  water.  They  are  furnished 
with  lungs  and  air  bladders,  adequate  to  this  purpose. 
Such  are  the  frog,  castor,  otter,  tortoise,  sea-calf,  alliga- 
tor, &c. 

Numbers  of  insects,  particularly  the  fly  kind,  appear  to 
be  amphibious  ;  gnats  always  drop  their  eggs  in  water, 
where  the  young  are  hatched,  and  live  after  the  maner  of 
fishes  ;  till  at  length  they  undergo  a  metamorphosis,  take 
wing,  quit  their  natural  element,  and  become  inhabitants 
of  the  air. 

IV.  Fishes. — Fishes  are  a  class  of  creatures  that  appear 
both  in  structure  and  sagacity  quite  inferior  to  other  ani- 
mals ;  though  capable  of  enduring  famine  an  amazing 
length  of  time,  they  appear  most  voracious  creatures  ;  a 
ceaseless  desire  for  food  seems  the  ruling  impulse  of  their 
actions,  and  their  life  one  continued  scene  of  violence  or 
evasion. 

Most  fishes  present  the  same  external  form  ;  sharp  at 
both  ends,  and  bulky  in  the  middle  ;  which  shape  is  most 
convenient  for  their  passage  through  the  watery  element. 
Mankind  have  imitated  this  form  in  the  construction  of 
their  marine  vessels  ;  but  the  progress  of  such  machines  is 
far  inferior  to  that  of  fishes  ;  any  of  which,  will,  with  ease, 
outstrip  a  ship  in  full  sail ;  play  around  it,  loiter  behind, 
and  overtake  it. 


WORKS  OF  NATURE 


3& 


The  instruments  of  motion  in  these  animals  are  the  fins ; 
of  which  the  general  complement  is  two  pair,  and  three 
single  fins  ;  though  some  fishes  possess  more,  and  many 
less  than  this  number.  The  pectoral  fins  are  placed  at 
some  distance  behind  the  opening  of  the  gills  ;  and  are 
generally  strong  and  large  ;  answering  the  same  purpose 
to  a  fish,  as  wings  do  to  a  bird  in  the  air  ;  namely,  pushing 
the  body  forward,  like  the  oars  to  a  boat.  They  also  serve 
to  balance  the  body  of  a  fish,  and  prevent  the  head  from 
sinking,  which  it  would  otherwise  do.  The  ventral  fins 
are  placed  under  the  belly,  towards  the  lower  part  of  the 
body  ;  these  are  always  extended  flat  on  the  water,  in  all 
situations  ;  and  serve  to  rise  or  depress  the  body  of  the  ani- 
mal, rather  than  assist  his  progression.  The  dorsal  fin 
is  situated  along  the  ridge  of  the  back  ;  and  serves  to  keep 
the  fish  in  equilibrium,  and  also  assists  it  in  its  velocity. 
The  fin  is  very  large  in  all  the  fish  ;  the  pectoral  fins  of 
which  are  proportionably  less.  The  anal  fin  extends  from 
the  anus  to  the  tail,  and  serves  to  keep  the  body  of  the 
animal  upright,  or  in  a  vertical  direction.  In  some  fishes, 
as  before  observed,  the  tail  is  horizontal,  and  in  others 
perpendicular.  Thus  equipped,  these  animals  have  the 
most  rapid  motions  ;  and  perform  voyages  of  upwards  of 
a  thousand  leagues  in  one  season. 

Fish  are  also  furnished  with  a  slimy  glutinous  matter, 
which  overspreads  the  whole  body,  and  defends  them  from 
the  corrosive  quality  of  the  water.  Beneath  this  matter, 
some  have  a  strong  covering  of  scales,  which,  like  a  coat 
of  armour,  protects  the  body  from  injuries.  Beneath  which, 
again,  there  is  an  oily  substance  which  supplies  the  animal 
with  the  necessary  warmth  and  vigour. 

Fishes  possess  most  of  the  senses,  in  an  inferior  degree, 
to  land  animals.  Their  sense  of  smelling  (though  furnished 
with  nostrils)  is  less  perfect  than  that  in  the  other  parts  of 
animated  nature,  as  must  be  evident  from  the  nature  of 
the  fluid  they  inhabit  :  this  sense  in  them  can  only  act 
from  the  action  of  the  fluid,  tinctured  with  the  odour  of  the 
object  upon  the  olfactory  nerves  within,  in  the  same  man- 
ner as  the  palates  of  other  animals  discover  tastes.  Their 
sense  of  taste  must  also  be  very  imperfect  ;  their  palate 
being  of  a  hard  bony  nature  ;  whereas,  in  quadrupeds  who 
possess  this  sense  in  an  exquisite  degree,  this  organ  is 
very  soft  and  pliant.    From  this  indiscrimination,  fish  will 


04 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE* 


frequently  swallow  the  plummet,  as  well  as  the  bait.— 
Their  sense  of  hearing  is  still  more  defective,  if  they  pos- 
sess this  faculty  at  all,  as  is  evident  from  the  frequent 
experiments  which  have  been  made.  No  fish,  except  the 
whale  kind,  have  the  least  appearance,  on  dissection,  of 
any  auditory  organs.  Their  sense  of  sight,  is,  however, 
somewhat  more  perfect,  though  inferior  to  that  of  most 
other  animals.  They  are  totally  destitute  of  eye-lids  ;  the 
eyes  being  covered  with  the  same  skin  that  overspreads 
the  rest  of  the  body. 

The  period  to  which  fishes  live,  is  very  little  known, 
though  it  is  generally  believed  they  attain  to  a  considerable 
age  ;  some  of  the  least  exceed  in  their  age  that  of  a  man. 
The  method  of  discovering  their  ages,  is  either  by  examin- 
ing the  transverse  coverings  of  their  scales,  by  means  of  a 
microscope,  or  by  the  transverse  section  of  the  back  bone. 
Buffon  found  a  carp,  which  by  the  former  method  of  com- 
putation, appeared  to  be  a  hundred  years  old,  allowing  one 
year  for  every  covering  of  the  scales  ;  the  skate  and  ray, 
like  other  fish  which  have  no  scales,  have  their  ages  dis- 
covered by  separating  the  joints  of  the  back  bone,  and  then 
examining  the  number  of  rings  which  the  surface  exhibited 
where  it  was  joined,  allowing  one  year  for  each  ring. 
Little  can  be  said  in  favour  of  the  certainty  of  either  of 
these  methods  ;  they,  however,  though  not  infallible 
criterions,  enable  us  to  make  a  near  approximation  to  the 
truth. 

The  greatest  singularity  in  fishes,  is  their  amazing  fecun- 
dity. Some  are  viviparous,  and  others  oviparous ;  the  latter 
produce  their  young,  or  rather  their  eggs,  in  far  greater 
abundance  than  the  former  ;  but  at  the  same  time  they  are 
more  subject  to  become  the  prey  of  other  fish,  and  even  of 
their  own  species,  not  excepting  the  parent  itself  which 
exuded  them,  while  they  continue  in  their  egg  state;  con- 
sequently but  very  few  of  these  eggs  produce  live  animals, 
though  produced  in  such  considerable  numbers.  A  single 
cod  will  produce  above  nine  millions  of  eggs  in  one  season; 
and  many  other  fish  have  as  proportionable  an  increase. 

V.  Insects. — Insects  and  animals  of  the  worm  kind  seem 
to  form  the  lowest  order  among  the  various  tribes  of  living 
creatures  which  inhabit  our  globe.  The  distinguishing 
characters  of  insects  are,  that  their  bodies  are  covered 


WORKS  OF  NATURE. 


85 


with  a  sort  of  bony  substance  instead  of  skin,  and  their 
heads  furnished  with  antennse  or  horns.  An  insect  may 
more  particularly  be  defined  a  small  animal  without  red 
blood  (this  matter  being  white  and  cold),  bones,  or  carti- 
lages; furnished  with  a  trunk,  or  else  a  mouth,  which 
opens  lengthways,  contrary  to  the  natural  order  ;  the  eyes 
destitute  of  covering  ;  and  lungs  opening  on  the  sides  of 
the  body.  This  definition  will  comprehend  the  whole  class 
of  insects  of  every  description.  This  class  of  beings  is  so 
numerous  and  so  various,  as  to  exceed  the  most  accurate 
and  unwearied  observations.  To  give  the  different  species 
of  only  flies  and  moths,  would  be  a  fruitless  attempt;  but 
to  give  the  history  of  every  species  of  insect  would  be 
utterly  impracticable,  so  various  are  they  in  their  forms, 
sizes,  habitudes,  methods  of  propagation,  and  manners, 
and  duration  of  life.  A  general  division  of  them,  however, 
according  to  their  most  apparent  external  differences  of 
form,  may  be  attempted. 

The  first  class  of  these  beings  wThich  present  themselves 
to  our  observation,  appear  to  be  those  which  are  destitute 
of  wings,  and  are  seen  crawling  about  on  every  plant  and 
spot  of  earth.  Some  of  these  never  acquire  wings,  but 
continue  in  this  reptile  state  during  their  whole  lives. 
These  are  all  oviparous,  except  the  flea  and  the  woodlouse ; 
and  properly  constitute  the  first  division  of  insects.  Others 
which  hereafter  become  winged  insects,  belonging  to  the 
following  divisions. 

The  second  grand  division  of  insects,  are  those  furnished 
with  wrings;  but  which,  when  first  produced  from  the  egg, 
appear  like  reptiles,  and  have  their  wings  so  cased  up,  as 
to  be  quite  concealed  ;  but  when  these  cases  break,  the 
wings  expand,  and  the  animal  acquires  its  perfect  form 
and  beauty.  Of  this  nature  are  the  dragon-fly,  the  grass- 
hopper, and  the  ear-wig. 

The  third  order  of  insects,  are  those  of  the  moth  and 
the  butterfly  kind ;  which  have  all  four  wings  each,  covered 
with  a  mealy  substance  of  various  colours,  which  easily 
rubs  off,  and  when  examined  by  the  microscope  appears  to 
be  elegant  scales.  'These  insects  have  a  peculiar  method 
of  propagation  ;  they  are  oviparous,  and,  when  first 
hatched  from  the  egg,  are  perfect  caterpillars,  which  often 
shed  their  skins,  and,  after  having  divested  themselves  of 
their  skins  for  the  last  time,  assume  new  coverings  called 

H 


86 


YOUNG  MANJS  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


chrysalids,  in  which  state  they  continue  till  they  come  forth 
in  their  perfect  winged  forms. 

The  fourth  division  include  those  winged  insects  which 
originate  from  worms,  and  not  from  caterpillars,  like  the 
former,  though  they  undergo  similar  transformations. 
Some  of  these  are  furnished  with  two,  and  others  with 
four  wings  each.  The  wings  of  animals  of  this  class  differ 
from  those  of  the  moth  and  butterfly  kind,  in  being  desti- 
tute of  those  scales  with  which  these  are  furnished.  This 
class  includes  all  the  numerous  class  of  flies,  gnats,  beetles, 
bees,  &c. 

The  fifth  and  last  class  of  insects,  contain  those  which 
naturalists  have  termed  zoophytes,  and  are  distinguished 
by  their  peculiar  mode  of  propagation,  so  different  from  the 
ordinary  course  of  nature.  They  may  be  multiplied  by 
dissection  ;  and  some  of  them,  though  cut  in  a  hundred 
pieces,  will  still  retain  the  vital  principle  in  each  separate 
part,  each  part  shortly  becoming  a  perfect  animal  ;  which 
may  again  be  increased  in  the  same  manner.  To  this 
class  belong  the  polypus,  the  earth-worm,  and  all  the 
varieties  of  the  sea  nettle. 

Insects  are  furnished  with  all  the  necessary  appendages 
proper  to  each,  for  the  purposes  of  defence,  of  flight,  or 
providing  for  their  own  subsistence.  The  different  parts 
of  their  bodies  are  also  constructed  with  admirable  skill. 
The  eye,  for  instance,  is  differently  formed  from  that  of 
any  other  creature  :  it  is  externally  rigid,  whereby  it  is 
not  obnoxious  to  many  injuries  5  the  cornea  is  divided  in 
every  part  into  lenticular  facets,  which,  viewed  by  the 
microscope,  appear  like  a  beautiful  piece  of  lattice  work, 
each  opening  reflecting  the  rays  of  light,  so  that,  when 
looked  through,  the  object  appears  inverted,  and  thereby 
supplies  the  place  of  crystaline  humour,  of  which  insects 
are  entirely  destitute.  Larger  animals  are  obliged  to  turn 
their  eyes  towards  the  object  they  wish  to  behold  ;  but 
many  insects,  as  flies,  have  their  eyes  so  constructed  as  to 
admit  the  view  of  every  neighbouring  object  at  once.  The 
number  of  eyes  are  very  dissimilar  in  different  insects ;  some 
have  only  one  ;  others  have  two  ;  spiders  have  generally 
eight  ;  and  flies  have  as  many  as  there  are  perforations  in 
the  cornea,  which  are  very  numerous.  Most  insects  are 
furnished  with  two  antennae,  or  feelers,  which  serve  to  keep 
their  eyes  clean.     Amphibious  insects  have  their  feet 


WORKS  OF  NATURE. 


87 


formed  of  flat  joints  ;  and  gristles  placed  on  each  side  of 
the  extremity  of  the  limb,  which  supply  the  place  of  oars, 
as  in  the  water-beetles.  Insects  formed  for  leaping,  as  the 
cricket  and  grasshopper,  have  strong,  brawny,  muscular, 
legs ;  while  those  who  use  their  claws  in  perforating  the 
earth,  have  these  members  admirably  adapted  for  this 
purpose. 

Insects  and  reptiles,  though  seemingly  the  most  in- 
significant of  animated  beings,  have  an  important  part 
assigned  them  to  perform  in  this  universe.  Though  the 
duration  of  their  life  be  but  as  a  moment,  and  their  strength 
when  compared  with  that  of  the  larger  animals,  as  nothing 
yet  their  power  is  often  irresistible.  The  strongest  animal 
which  treads  the  earth  is  frequently  driven  to  madness  by 
the  endless  irritation  these  insignificant  beings  produce ; 
the  sun  himself  is  deprived  of  his  light  by  the  shading  of 
their  wings,  and  every  leaf  that  can  give  support  to  animal 
life  is  often  swept,  at  once,  away  by  their  devouring  jaws; 
neither  has  the  ingenuity  of  man,  which  subdues  the 
strongest,  and  reclaims  the  most  ferocious  animals,  enabled 
him  to  devise  the  means  of  defending  himself  from  the 
devastations  of  these  active  invaders  of  his  rights.  His 
very  existence  itself,  on  many  occasions,  depends  upon  his 
speedy  withdrawing  bej^ond  the  sphere  of  their  active 
incursions. 

If  their  power  be  thus  irresistible,  their  utility  is  not 
perhaps  less  conspicuous  on  this  globe.  Man  has  ever 
been  able,  on  some  occasions,  to  make  them  become  sub- 
servient to  his  will.  The  bee  collects  honey  for  his  use ; 
the  moth,  under  his  influence,  affords  him  silk  ;  the  can- 
tharides  an  active  drug;  the  cochineal  insect  the  most 
brilliant  of  his  dyes.  Even  where  they  are  totally  beyond 
his  control,  they  minister  indirectly  to  his  wants.  Under 
the  form  of  eggs,  maggots,  grubs,  caterpillars,  aurelise, 
and  flies,  they  furnish  food  to  innumerable  creatures,  who 
augment  his  comforts  in  a  thousand  ways.  But  it  is  as 
the  scavengers  of  this/  universe,  that  these  puny  beings 
become  chiefly  salutary  to  man,  and  all  animated  nature. 
Without  their  unceasing  aid  in  this  respect,  the  air  would 
become  quickly  tainted  with  the  most  noxious  effluvia, 
which  would  soon  put  an  end  to  animal  existence.  To 
obviate  this,  the  beneficent  Creator  hath  decreed  that  a 
numerous  department  of  this  class  of  beings  while  in  their 


88  young  man's  book  of  knowledge. 


reptile  state,  shall  be  unceasingly  employed  in  searching 
for,  and  devouring  every  thing  that  has  once  lived,  and  is 
now  tending  to  decay.  Under  this  state  of  degradation 
these  creatures  are  doomed  to  labour  for  a  time  with 
unceasing  asiduity  :  and  that  nothing  might  divert  their 
attentionfrom  this  important  business,  even  for  one  moment, 
the  distinctions  of  sex  are  withheld  from  them  while  inthis 
state ;  nor  does  it  seem  that  they  have  a  single  perceptive 
faculty,  unless  it  be  that  of  striving  to  preserve  their  exist- 
ence, and  allay  their  insatiable  appetite  for  food.  Having 
at  length,  however,  with  the  most  patient  assiduity,  per- 
formed the  menial  task  that  was  assigned  them,  they  are 
then  called,  by  the  bounty  of  the  Creator,  into  another  and 
superior  state  of  existence,  in  which  they  are  destined  to 
perform  a  part  the  most  opposite  which  can  be  conceived( 
to  that  they  formerly  acted.  The  unsightly  grub,  after  a] 
temporary  death,  awakens  into  new  life,  and  deserting  the' 
clod  it  lately  inhabited,  and  nauseating  its  former  food,' 
sports  in  the  sunbeam,  and  sips  the  balmy  dew  ;  nor  does 
the  butterfly,  now  arrayed  in  the  most  gorgeous  attire, 
seem  to  claim  the  most  distant  alliance  with  the  ugly 
caterpillar  from  whence  it  sprang.  The  attraction  of  sex' 
seems  to  form  the  chief  business  of  this  period  of  life ; 
food  is  neglected  as  if  unnecessary,  and  its  life  is  devoted 
to  amorous  dalliance  alone.  Having  soon  provided  a  nu- 
merous progeny  of  voracious  labourers,  it  leaves  this  tran-; 
sitory  scene,  to  make  room  for  those  who  are  destined  to 
supply  its  important  place  in  the  universe. 

The  changes  and  transformations  of  insects  are  first 
from  the  ovum  (egg)  into  the  larva  (caterpillar  or  maggot), 
then  into  the  pupa  (chrysalis),  and  last  into  the  imago  (fly). 
Pupa  is  a  name  derived  from  the  resemblance  of  the  insect 
in  this  state  to  an  infant  in  swaddling  cloths,  and  the  term 
is  now  used  in  preference  to  chrysalis.  The  period  of  exist- 1 
ence  in  each  of  these  states,  varies  greatly  in  different 
species  of  insects  ;  but  in  general  they  continue  much 
longer  in  the  reptile  state  than  that  of  the  fly.  The  spe- 
cies of  fly  called  ichneumon  remains  in  the  water  as  a 
kind  of  worm,  for  the  space  of  about  two  years  ;  in  its  fly 
state  it  seldom  continues  more  than  one  clay.  The  ephe- 
meron  is  nearly  the  same  ;  and  the  grub  of  the  cockchafer 
remains  under  ground  for  about  two  years  also  ;  in  its  fly 
state  it  in  general  exists  only  about  two  months. 


WORKS  OF  NATURE. 


Sect.  VII. — Of  the  Human  Frame. 

Man  is  placed  at  the  head  of  the  animal  creation. 
Animated  and  enlightened  by  a  ray  from  the  Divinity,  he 
surpasses  in  dignity  every  material  being.  He  was  made 
after  all  other  creatures,  not  only  as  the  most  perfect,  but 
as  the  superintendent  and  master  of  all  things  ;  created 
"  to  rule  over  the  fish  in  the  sea,  and  over  the  fowl  of  the 
air,  and  over  cattle,  and  over  the  earth,  and  over  every 
creeping  thing." 

The  body  of  a  well-shaped  man  ought  to  be  square,  the 
muscles  ought  to  be  strongly  marked,  the  contour  of  the 
members  boldly  delineated,  and  the  features  of  the  face 
well-defined.  In  woman,  all  the  parts  are  more  rounded, 
and  softer,  the  features  are  more  delicate,  and  the  com- 
plexion brighter.  To  man  belong  strength  and  majesty  ; 
gracefulness  and  beauty  are  the  portion  of  the  other  sex; 
Every  thing  in  both  sexes  points  them  out  as  sovereigns 
of  the  earth  :  even  the  external  appearance  of  man 
declares  his  superiority  to  other  living  creatures.  His 
head  tends  towards  the  heavens,  and  in  his  august  coun- 
tenance beams  the  sacred  ray  of  sapient  reason.  He  alone 
sheds  the  tears  which  arise  from  emotions  of  sensibility, 
unknown  to  animals  ;  and  he  alone  expresses  the  gladness 
of  his  soul  by  laughter.  His  erect  posture  and  majestic 
deportment  announce  his  dignity  and  superiority.  He 
touches  the  earth  only  with  the  extremity  of  his  body  ; 
his  arms  and  hands,  formed  for  nobler  ends  than  the  cor- 
respondent organs  of  quadrupeds,  execute  the  purposes  of 
his  mind,  and  bring  every  thing  within  his  reach  which  can 
minister  to  his  wants  and  his  pleasures.  By  his  eyes, 
which  reflect  the  intelligence  of  thought,  and  the  ardour 
of  sentiment,  and  which  are  peculiarly  the  organs  of  the 
soul,  are  expressed  the  soft  and  tender,  as  well  as  the 
violent  and  tumultuous  passions.  They  are  turned,  not 
towards  the  heavens,  but  to  the  horizon,  so  that  he  may 
behold  at  once  the  sky  which  illuminates,  and  the  earth 
which  supports  him.  Their  reach  extends  to  the  nearest 
and  the  most  distant  objects,  and  glances  from  the  grains 
of  sand  at  his  feet  to  the  star  which  shines  over  his  head 
at  an  immeasurable  distance. 

The  human  body  consists  of  solid  and  fluid  parts,  which 
h2 


90 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


in  general  called  the  solids  and  fluids,  or  humours  of  the 
body.  The  solid  parts  are  bones,  cartilages,  ligaments, 
muscles,  tendons,  membranes,  nerves,  arteries,  veins,  ducts,  or 
fine  tubular  vessels  of  various  sorts.  Of  these  simple  solids 
the  more  compound  organs  of  life  consists,  viz.  the  brain, 
and  cerebellum,  the  lungs,  the  stomach,  the  liver,  the  spleen, 
the  pancreas,  the  kidneys,  the  glands,  the  intestines,  together 
with  the  organs  of  sense,  viz.  the  eyes,  the  ears,  the  nose, 
and  the  tongue. 

The  fluid  parts  of  the  human  body,  are  chyle,  blood,  sa- 
liva or  spittle,  bile,  milk,  lympha,  the  semen,  the  pancreatic 
juice,  urine,  phlegm,  serum,  and  the  aqueous  humour  of  the 
eyes. 

Anatomists  have  employed  much  pains  in  the  study  of 
the  material  parts  of  man,  and  have  assigned  to  each  of 
the  above  parts  their  appropriate  use  in  the  economy  of 
his  frame  ;  but  none,  perhaps,  have  given  so  comprehensive 
and  eloquent  a  description  of  the  structure  of  man  as  the 
late  Dr.  Hunter. 

"  In  order,"  says  this  celebrated  anatomist,  "  to  acquire 
a  satisfactory  general  idea  of  this  subject,  let  us,  in  imagi- 
nation, make  a  man  ;  in  other  words,  let  us  construct  a 
fabric  fit  for  the  residence  of  an  intelligent  soul.  This  soul 
is  to  hold  a  correspondence  with  all  material  beings  around 
her  ;  and  to  that  end  she  must  be  supplied  whh  organs 
fitted  to  receive  the  different  kinds  of  impressious  which 
they  will  make.  In  fact,  therefore,  we  see  that  she  is 
provided  with  the  organs  of  sense,  as  we  call  them  ;  the 
eye  is  adapted  to  light,  the  ear  to  sound,  the  nose  to  smell, 
the  mouth  to  taste,  and  the  skin  to  touch.  Farther,  she 
must  be  furnished  with  organs  of  communication  between 
herself  in  the  brain  and  those  organs,  to  give  her  informa- 
tion of  all  the  impressions  that  are  made  on  them  ;  and 
she  must  have  organs  between  herself  in  the  brain  and 
every  other  part  of  the  body,  fitted  to  convey  her  com- 
mands and  influence  over  the  whole.  For  these  purposes 
the  nerves  are  actually  given.  They  are  chords  which 
rise  from  the  brain,  the  immediate  residence  of  the  mind, 
and  disperse  themselves  in  branches  through  all  parts  of  the 
body.  They  are  intended  to  be  occasional  monitors  against 
all  such  impressions  as  might  endanger  the  well-being  of 
the  whole,  or  of  any  particular  part  ;  and  this  vindicates 
the  Creator  of  all  things  in  having  actually  subjected  us 


THE  WORKS  OF  NATURI 


91 


to  those  many  disagreeable  and  painful  sensations  which 
we  are  exposed  to  from  a  thousand  accidents  in  life. 
Moreover,  the  mind,  in  this  corporeal  system,  must  be 
endued  with  the  power  of  moving  from  place  to  place, 
that  she  may  have  intercourse  with  a  variety  of  objects; 
that  she  may  fly  from  such  as  are  disagreeable,  dangerous, 
or  hurtful,  and  pursue  such  as  are  pleasant  and  useful  to 
her ;  and,  accordingly,  she  is  supplied  with  muscles  and 
tendons,  the  instruments  of  motion,  which  are  found  in 
every  part  of  the  fabric  where  motion  is  necessary :  but, 
to  give  firmness  and  shape  to  the  fabric;  to  keep  the 
softer  parts  in  their  proper  place ;  to  give  fixed  points  for, 
and  proper  direction  to,  its  motions ;  as  well  as  to  protect 
some  of  the  more  important  and  tender  organs  from 
external  injuries,  there  must  be  some  firm  prop-work 
interwoven  through  the  whole;  and,  in  fact,  for  such 
purposes  the  bones  were  given.  The  prop-work  must  not 
be  made  into  one  rigid  fabric,  for  that  would  prevent 
motion.  Therefore,  there  are  a  number  of  bones*.  These 
pieces  must  all  be  firmly  bound  together,  to  prevent  their 
dislocation ;  and  this  end  is  perfectly  answered  by  the 
ligaments.  The  extremities  of  these  bony  pieces,  where 
they  move  and  rub  upon  one  another,  must  have  smooth 
and  slippery  surfaces,  of  easy  motion.  This  is  most 
happily  provided  for  by  the  cartilages,  and  mucus  of  the 
joints.  The  interstices  of  all  these  parts  must  be  filled 
up  with  some  soft  and  ductile  matter,  which  shall  keep 
them  in  their  places,  unite  them,  and  at  the  same  time 
allow  them  to  move  a  little  upon  one  another;  and  these 
purposes  are  answered  by  the  cellular  membrane,  or  adi- 
pose substance.  There  must  be  an  adequate  covering  over 
the  whole  apparatus,  both  to  give  it  compactness,  and  to 
defend  it  from  a  thousand  injuries ;  which,  in  fact,  are 
the  very  purposes  of  the  skin,  and  other  integuments. 
Lastly,  the  mind  being  formed  for  society  and  intercourse 
with  beings  of  her  own  kind,  she  must  be  endued  with 
powers  of  expressing  and  communicating  her  thoughts 
by  some  sensible  marks  or  signs,  easy  to  herself,  and 
capable  of  great  variety ;  and  accordingly  she  is  provided 

*  Dr.  Keill  reckons  245  bones  in  the  human  body ;  others  make  them 
to  be  249,  viz.  in  the  skull  14,  in  the  face  and  throat  46,  in  the  trunk  67, 
in  the  arms  and  hands  62,  and  in  the  legs  and  feet  80. 


92  young  man's  book  of  knowledge. 


with  the  organs  and  faculty  of  speech,  by  which  she  can 
throw  out  signs  with  amazing  facility,  and  vary  them 
without  end. 

"  Thus  we  have  built  a  body  which  seems  to  be  pretty 
complete ;  but,  as  it  is  the  nature  of  matter  to  be  worked 
upon  and  altered  so,  in  a  very  little  time  such  a  living 
creature  must  be  destroyed,  if  there  is  no  provision  for 
repairing  the  injuries  which  she  will  commit  upon  herself, 
and  those  which  she  will  be  exposed  to  from  without. 
Therefore  a  treasure  of  blood  is  actually  provided  in  the 
heart  and  vascular  system,  full  of  nutritious  and  healing 
particles,  fluid,  and  able  to  penetrate  into  the  minutest 
parts  of  the  animal ;  impelled  by  the  heart,  and  convey- 
ed by  the  arteries,  it  washes  every  part,  builds  up  what 
was  broken  down,  and  sweeps  away  the  old  useless 
materials.    Hence  we  see  the  necessity  or  advantage  of 
the  heart  and  arterial  system.    What  more  than  enough 
there  was  of  the  blood  to  repair  the  present  damages  of 
the  machine,  must  not  be  lost,  but  should  be  returned 
again  to  the  heart ;  and  for  this  purpose  the  veins  are 
actually  provided.    These  requisites  in  the  animal  ex- 
plain, a  priori,  the  circulation  of  the  blood.    The  old 
materials,  which  are  become  useless,  and  are  swept  off  by 
the  current  of  the  blood,  must  be  separated  and  thrown 
out  of  the  system :  therefore  the  glands,  the  organs  of 
secretion,  are  given  for  straining  whatever  is  redundant, 
vapid,  or  noxious,  from  the  mass  of  blood ;  and,  when 
strained,  they  are  thrown  out  by  emunctories,  called 
organs  of  excretion.    But  now,  as  the  machine  must  be 
constantly  wearing,  the  operations  must  be  carried  on 
without  intermission,  and  the  strainers  must  be  always 
employed  :  therefore  there  is  actually  a  perpetual  circu- 
lation of  the  blood,  and  the  secretions  are  always  going 
on.     Even  all  this  provision,  however,  would  not  be 
sufficient ;  for  that  store  of  blood  would  be  soon  con- 
sumed, and  the  fabric  would  break  down,  if  there  were 
not  a  provision  made  for  fresh  supplies.     These  we 
observe,  in  fact,  are  profusely  scattered  round  her  in  the 
animal  and  vegetable  kingdoms;  and  she  is  furnished 
with  hands,  the  fittest  instruments  that  could  have  been 
contrived,  for  gathering  them,  and  for  preparing  them  in 
a  variety  of  ways  for  the  mouth.    But  these  supplies, 


THE  WORKS  OF  NATUKE. 


93 


which  we  call  food,  must  be  considerably  changed  ;  they 
must  be  converted  into  bloodi  Therefore  she  is  provided 
with  teeth  for  cutting  and  bruising  the  food,  and  with  a 
stomach  for  melting  it  down  ;  in  short,  with  all  the 
organs  subservient  to  digestion.  The  finer  parts  of  the 
aliments  only  can  be  useful  in  the  constitution  :  these 
must  be  taken  up  and  conveyed  into  the  blood,  and  the 
dregs  must  be  thrown  off.  With  this  view,  the  intestinal 
canal  is  actually  given.  It  separates  the  nutritious  part, 
which  we  call  chyle,  to  be  conveyed  into  the  blood  by 
the  system  of  the  absorbent  vessels ;  and  the  feces  pass 
downward  out  of  the  body.  Thus  we  see  that,  by  the 
very  imperfect  survey  which  human  reason  is  able  to 
take  of  this  subject,  the  animal  man  must  necessarily  be 
complex  in  his  corporeal  system,  and  in  its  operations ; 
and  in  taking  this  general  view  of  what  would  appear,  a 
priori,  to  be  necessary  for  adapting  an  animal  to  the 
situations  of  life,  we  observe,  with  great  satisfaction,  that 
man  is  accordingly  made  of  such  sj^stems,  and  for  such 
purposes.  He  has  them  all ;  and  he  has  nothing  more 
except  the  organs  of  respiration.  Breathing  it  seemed 
difficult  to  account  for  a  priori ;  we  only  know  it  to  be  a 
fact  essentially  necessary  to  life.  Notwithstanding  this, 
when  we  see  all  the  other  parts  of  the  body,  and  their 
functions,  so v well  accounted  for,  and  so  wisely  adapted 
to  their  several  purposes,  there  would  be  no  doubt  that 
respiration  was  so  likewise  ;  and,  accordingly,  the  dis- 
coveries of  Dr.  Priestley  have  lately  thrown  light  upon 
this  function  also. 

"  Of  all  the  different  systems  in  the  human  body,  the 
use  and  necessity  are  not  more  apparent,  than  the  wisdom 
and  contrivance  which  has  been  exerted  in  putting  them 
all  into  the  most  compact  and  convenient  form ;  in 
disposing  them  so  that  they  shall  mutually  receive  and 
give  helps  from  one  another ;  and  that  all,  or  many,  of 
the  parts  shall  not  only  answer  their  principal  end  and 
purpose,  but  operate  successfully  and  usefully  in  a  variety 
of  secondaiy  ways.  If  we  consider  the  whole  animal 
machine  in  this  light,  and  compare  it  with  any  in  which 
human  art  has  exerted  its  utmost  skill  (suppose  the  best 
constructed  ship  that  ever  was  built,)  we  shall  be  con- 
vinced, beyond  the  possibility  of  doubt,  that  there  exists 


94 


YOUNG  MANJS  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE* 


intelligence  and  powers  far  surpassing  what  human  art 
can  boast  of.  One  superiority  in  the  animal  machine  is 
peculiarly  striking.  In  machines  of  human  contrivance, 
or  of  art,  there  is  an  internal  power,  no  principle  in  the 
thing  itself,  by  which  it  can  alter  and  accommodate  itself 
to  any  injury  that  it  may  suffer,  or  make  up  any  injury 
that  admits  of  repair;  but  in  the  natural  machine,  or 
animal  body,  this  is  most  wonderfully  provided  for  by  the 
internal  powers  of  the  machine  itself ;  many  of  which 
are  not  more  certain  and  obvious  in  their  effects,  than 
they  are  above  all  human  comprehension  as  to  the 
manner  and  means  of  their  operation.  Thus,  a  wound 
heals  up  of  itself;  a  broken  bone  is  made  firm  by  a 
callus  ;  a  dead  part  is  separated  and  thrown  off;  noxious 
juices  are  driven  out  by  the  emunctories  ;  a  redundancy 
is  removed  by  some  spontaneous  bleeding ;  a  bleeding 
naturally  stops  of  itself ;  and  a  great  loss  of  blood,  from 
any  cause,  is  in  some  measure  compensated  by  a  con- 
tracting power  in  the  muscular  system,  which  accommo- 
dates the  capacity  of  the  vessel  to  the  quantity  contained. 
The  stomach  gives  information  when  the  supplies  have 
been  expended  ;  represents,  with  great  exactness,  the 
quantity  and  quality  of  what  is  wanted  in  the  present 
state  of  the  machine ;  and,  in  proportion  as  she  meets 
with  neglect,  rises  in  her  demand,  urges  her  petition  in  a 
louder  tone,  and  with  more  forcible  arguments.  For  its 
protection,  an  animal  body  resists  heat  and  cold  in  a 
very  wonderful  manner,  and  preserves  an  equal  tempera- 
ture in  a  burning  and  in  a  freezing  atmosphere.  These 
are  powers  which  mock  all  human  invention  or  imitation  j 
they  are  characteristics  of  the  Divine  Architect." 

Part  of  the  motions  of  the  complicated  frame  of  man, 
in  common  with  all  animated  beings,  are  voluntary,  or 
dependent  on  the  mind ;  and  part  involuntary,  or  without 
the  mind's  direction. 

How  the  incorporeal  existence,  which  we  call  mind, 
can  operate  on  matter,  and  put  it  in  motion,  is  to  us  per- 
fectly incomprehensible.  When  the  anatomist  considers 
the  number  of  muscles  that  must  be  put  in  motion  before 
any  animal  exertion  can  be  effected  ;  when  he  views 
them  one  by  one,  and  tries  to  ascertain  the  precise  degree 
to  which  every  individual  muscle  must  be  constricted,  or 


WORKS  OF  NATURE. 


96 


relaxed,  before  the  particular  motion  indicated  can  be 
effected,  he  finds  himselflost  in  the  labyrinth  of  calcu- 
lations in  which  this  involves  him  :  but  when  he  con- 
siders that  everyone  of  these  muscles  must  be  constricted 
or  relaxed  to  the  precise  degree  that  appertains  to  each, 
and  no  more,  and  at  the  same  instant  of  time ;  when  he 
recollects  that  the  smallest  jarring  in  this  respect  in  any 
one  of  these  would  throw  the  whole  into  inextricable 
disorder;  when  he  considers  with  what  promptitude  the 
whole  of  this  is  done  in  an  instant  by  the  mere  act  of  his 
volition,  and  how,  in  another  instant,  by  a  change  in  that 
volition,  all  these  muscles  are  thrown  into  a  different  state, 
and  a  set  brought  into  action,  and  so  on  continually  as 
long  as  he  pleases,  his  mind  is  lost  in  the  immensity  of 
wonder  that  this  excites.  But  when  he  farther  reflects, 
that  it  is  not  only  he  himself  that  is  endowed  with  the 
faculty  of  calling  forth  those  incomprehensible  energies, 
but  that  the  most  insignificant  insect  is  vested  with  pow- 
ers of  a  similar  sort,  he  is  still  more  confounded.  A  skilful, 
naturalist  has  been  able  to  perceive,  that  in  the  body  of 
the  poorest  caterpillar,  which,  in  the  common  opinion 
is  one  of  the  most  degraded  existences  on  this  globe, 
there  are  upwards  of  two  thousand  muscles,  all  of  which 
can  be  brought  into  action  with  as  much  facility  at  the 
will  of  that  insect,  and  perform  their  several  offices  with 
as  much  accuracj^,  promptitude,  and  precision,  as  in  the 
most  perfect  animal;  and  all  this  is  done  by  that  insect 
with  an  equal  consciousness  of  the  manner  how,  as  the 
similar  voluntary  actions  of  man  are  effected. 

Nor  are  the  involuntary  motions  less  mysterious  and 
wonderful  The  stomach,  the  intestines,  and  all  the 
functions  necessary  to  life,  wait  not  to  be  called  into 
action  by  any  volition  of  ours.  The  heart,  placed  near 
the  centre  of  the  system,  performs  its  task  as  well  when 
we  are  asleep  as  when  we  are  awake,  by  night  as  by 
day,  and  like  an  unwearied  and  faithful  labourer,  with 
muscular  exertions,  distributes  the  vital  stream  through 
our  complicated  frame,  till  their  wearied  functions  cease, 
and  the  tenement  of  clay  is  inhabited  no  more.  How 
admirably  it  is  calculated  to  keep  up  this  continued  cir- 
culation throughout  the  system,  may  be  understood  by 
the  following  computation,  by  Dr.  Keill :  Each  ventricle 


96         young  man's  book  op  knowledge. 

will  at  least  contain  one  ounce  of  blood.  The  heart  con* 
tracts  four  thousand  times  in  one  hour  ;  from  which 
it  follows,  that  there  pass  through  the  heart,  every  hour, 
four  thousand  ounces,  or  three  hundred  and  fifty  pounds 
of  blood.  Now  the  whole  mass  of  blood  is  said  to  be 
about  twenty*five  pounds;  so  that  a  quantity  of  blood 
passes  through  the  heart  fourteen  times  in  one  hour, 
which  is  about  once  every  four  minutes.'*  Consider  what 
an  affair  this  is  when  we  come  to  very  large  animals. 
The  aorta  of  a  whale  is  larger  in  the  bore  than  the  main- 
pipe  of  the  water- works  at  London-Bridge;  and  the 
water  roaring  in  its  passage  through  that  pipe,  is  inferior 
in  impetus  and  velocity  to  the  blood  gushing  from  the 
whale's  heart.  Hear  Dr.  Hunter's  account  of  the  dis* 
section  of  a  whale.  "  The  aorta  measured  a  foot  diame- 
ter. Ten  or  fifteen  gallons  of  blood  is  thrown  out  of  the 
heart  at  a  stroke,  with  an  immense  velocity,  through  a 
tube  of  a  foot  diameter.  The  whole  idea  fills  the  mind 
with  wonder."  It  is  thus,  O  great  Author  of  all  Things ! 
we  discover  Thee  in  thy  works. 

Thus  may  the  curiosity  of  man  be  gratified  by  survey* 
ing  the  productions  of  nature  ;  and  thus  the  farther  he 
extends  his  researches,  the  more  reason  will  he  find  to 
admire  the  general  economy  of  created  beings.  What- 
ever objects  his  eyes  behold,  whether  small  or  great,  he 
will  see  design  and  order  impressed  upon  them,  in  the 
most  conspicuous  characters.  The  stars  scattered  over 
the  blue  vault  of  heaven,  and  so  numerous  as  to  baffle 
calculation,  whether  they  shine  only  to  afford  us  light,  or 
are  the  suns  of  other  systems,  and  thus  proclaim  the 
extent  of  Almighty  power,  cannot  fail  to  strike  us  with 
astonishment.  The  blazing  comets,  which  were  the  dire 
prognostics,  in  the  opinion  of  our  ancestors,  of  the  fall  of 
kings,  and  the  subversion  of  empires,  we  are  taught  by 
the  improvements  of  philosophy  to  contemplate  with 
admiration,  devoid  of  terror;  and  to  consider  as  the 
abodes  of  creatures  endowed  with  various  powers  and 
faculties.  The  earth  performing  her  annual  and  diurnal 
circuit  around  the  centre  of  the  system,  so  as  to  produce 
a  regular  change  of  seasons,  and  a  succession  of  light 
and  darkness  :  the  ocean  giving  to  mankind  the  constant 
advantages  of  its  tides ;  and  although  frequently  tern 


THE  ttORKS  OF  NATURE, 


pestuous,  and  sometimes  threatening  to  mix  its  waves 
with  the  clouds,  and  to  overflow  the  earth,  yet  obeying 
the  invariable  laws  of  its  flux  and  reflux,  and  never 
advancing  beyond  its  prescribed  bounds  :— the  air,  which, 
from  its  partial  pressure,  would  crush  us  to  the  ground, 
but  by  the  elasticity  of  its  internal  resistance  forming  an 
exact  counterbalance,  clearly  demonstrate  the  power,  the 
wisdom,  and  the  benignity  of  an  omnipotent  Creator. 
Time  and  space,  substance  and  heat,  are  the  vast  mate- 
rials of  nature  ;  the  wide  universe  is  the  sphere  in  which 
they  act ;  and  life,  activity,  and  happiness,  constitute  the 
end  of  their  operations.  The  whole  race  of  animals  pre- 
served to  the  present  time  in  the  same  flourishing  state 
in  which  they  were  at  first  created ;  the  impulse  of 
instinct  directing  them  to  wholesome  food,  to  commodious 
habitations ;  and  to  the  propagation  of  their  kind ;  the 
structure  of  their  frames,  suitable  to  their  immediate  use  5 
the  several  tribes  of  creatures  subordinate  to  each  other, 
conducive  in  various  respects  to  the  good  of  man  ;  and 
the  abundant  provision  made  for  their  subsistence,  are  all 
evident  and  incontestable  proofs  of  divine  skill,  con- 
trivance, and  power. 

The  human  race,  and  all  other  beings,  are  formed  with 
such  exquisite  ingenuity,  that  man  is  wholly  unable  to 
imitate  the  most  simple  fibre,  vein,  or  nerve,  much  less  to 
construct  a  hand,  or  any  other  organ  of  contrivance  or 
execution,  All  living  creatures  constitute  one  chain  of 
universal  existence,  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  the 
world.  Our  own  structure,  and  the  formation  of  all 
around,  above,  and  beneath  us,  in  the  animal,  vegetable, 
and  mineral  kingdoms,  proclaim  the  operations  of  an 
all-wise  and  all-powerful  Being,  and  the  constant  agency 
of  his  over-ruling  Providence. 

It  is  thus  we  discover  the  Almighty  Creator  of  all 
things  in  his  works  !  Dark  clouds  rest  upon  his  hallowed 
and  inaccessible  habitations :  but  the  beams  of  glory 
darted  from  his  eternal  throne,  shine  around  us  on  every 
side.  We  cannot  with  our  mortal  eyes  behold  his 
presence  ;  we  cannot  even  look  steadfastly  upon  the  orb 
of  day,  his  glorious  emblem  ;  but  we  can  in  every  part 
of  the  globe  trace  the  plain  vestiges  of  his  power,  wis- 
dom, and  benevolence.-— Wherever  a  plant  takes  root  and 
9 


YOCJNQ  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE, 


flourishes,  wherever  an  animal  appears,  there  is  he 
plainly  discoverable.  In  the  depths  of  the  Pacific  Ocean, 
in  the  boundless  wilds  of  Africa,  upon  the  snowy 
summits  of  the  Alps,  and  along  the  vast  range  of  the 
stupendous  Andes,  he  may  be  traced.  His  power  and 
wisdom  are  evident  in  the  formation  of  the  fragrant  rose, 
and  the  towering  oak ;  in  the  gentle  lamb,  and  tha 
roaring  lion;  in  the  melodious  nightingale,  and  the 
rapacious  vulture.  The  exquisite  construction  of  their 
respective  parts  prove  the  unskilfulness  of  men,  even  in 
their  most  elaborate  productions,  and  demonstrates  the 
admirable  invention  of  their  Creator.  Compared  with 
his  works,  how  small,  imperfect,  and  trifling  are  all  the 
labours  of  art !  since  all  he  does  is  marked  with  consum- 
mate skill  and  excellence.  He  has  concealed  from  our 
strictest  and  most  persevering  examination,  a  knowledge 
which  would  neither  minister  more  abundantly  to  our 
comforts,  nor  increase  our  happiness,  his  benevolence  is 
displayed  in  what  he  denies  as  well  as  in  what  he  bestows. 
In  his  hands  matter  is  supple  and  prompt  to  receive  every 
impression.  At  his  command  it  is  formed  into  beings, 
the  most  strongl}'  marked  by  character,  and  the  most 
varied  by  form,  from  the  stern  lineaments  and  shaggy 
covering  of  the  lion,  to  the  soft  plumage  and  delicate 
shape  of  the  dove.  He  has  impressed  a  never-failing 
symmetry  upon  every  created  being  of  the  same  species, 
and  endowed  it  with  the  same  properties;  and  this  un 
changing  execution  and  perpetuity  of  his  original  design, 
proves  to  us  the  undeviating  regularity  of  his  plans. 
The  same  principles  of  fecundity  produce  each  particular 
kinds  of  animals ;  and  the  same  modes  of  preservation 
continue,  as  at  the  moment  when  by  his  creative  voice 
they  were  first  called  into  existence.  The  parents  and 
the  most  distant  offspring  of  animals  are  the  same  :  pre- 
serving invariably  through  their  successive  generations 
the  most  exact  resemblance  of  their  original  stock.  The 
different  kinds  still  continue  unaltered  in  proportions, 
features,  and  strength,  and  they  flourish  in  full  youth, 
bloom,  and  vigour ;  and  these  are  qualities  not  inter- 
rupted by  the  decay,  nor  weakened  by  the  old  age  of  their 
species.  He  has  diversified  the  earth  with  hills  and 
valleys,  woods  and  plains ;  intersected  it  with  rivers^ 


WORKS  OF  NATVBE, 


lakes,  and  seas,  affording  to  the  eyes  of  man  the  most 
enchanting  prospects,  and  the  most  beneficial  means  to 
supply  the  wants  of  his  nature,  and  guard  him  against 
the  inclemency  of  the  seasons.  He  has  clothed  the 
surface  of  the  earth  with  the  refreshing  verdure  of  grass, 
and  the  thick  forests  of  stately  trees  ;  he  has  enriched  it 
with  such  numerous  vegetables  as  are  more  immediately 
conducive  to  the  sustenance  of  man ;  and  has  stored  its 
bowels  with  those  metals,  which  excite  his  industry,  and 
minister  to  his  accommodation.  Foreseeing  the  adap- 
tation of  many  of  his  productions  to  the  support  and  the 
comfort  of  human  life,  he  has  provided  them  in  abun- 
dance ;  his  bounty  to  all  creatures  is  like  the  mighty 
ocean,  flowing  in  perrennial  streams  for  every  age : — it 
is  open  to  every  eye,  its  treasures  are  enjoyed  wherever 
they  are  sought,  but  its  sources  are  unknown  and 
unfathomable. 

Our  natural  desire  of  acquiring  knowledge  is  ever  at- 
tended with  a  consciousness  of  our  ignorance  ;  and  our 
pride  is  repressed  at  every  step  we  take  by  the  limited 
nature  of  our  faculties,  and  the  tardy  progress  of  our 
utmost  diligence.  The  history  of  nature,  indeed,  as  far 
as  our  imperfect  researches  can  extend  to  her  general 
economy  and  laws,  is  the  history  of  providential  good- 
ness to  all  created  beings  :  as  we  enlarge  our  acquaint- 
ance with  it,  the  more  do  we  understand  our  peculiar 
obligations,  as  creatures  endued  with  reason,  and  enlight- 
ened by  the  revelation  of  the  divine  will.  Our  knowledge, 
therefore,  is  only  valuable  as  it  leads  to  devotion, 
gratitude  and  obedience,  which  constitute  the  due 
homage  of  wise  and  dependent  beings. 

By  looking  back  through  the  long  series  of  past  ages, 
we  ascend  to  the  developement  of  the  creative  power  or 
God,  as  the  primary  cause  of  all  existence ;  and  we 
observe  the  proofs  of  omnipotence  again  manifested  in 
the  most  tremendous  manner,  when  at  the  divine  com- 
mand the  foundations  of  the  deep  were  broken  up,  and 
the  guilty  race  of  men,  except  righteous  Noah  and  his 
family,  were  overwhelmed  in  the  general  deluge ;  of 
which  the  monuments  are  spread  over  the  whole  globe, 
to  perpetuate  the  remembrance  of  sin  and  its  punishment. 
By  looking  around  us,  and  surveying  the  wide  prospects 


.00 


JOUNG  MAN?S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


of  nature,  we  see  the  Almighty  supreme  in  majesty,  love, 
and  mercy. — Led  by  the  light  of  science  to  survey  the 
starry  heavens,  we  behold  him  exercising  these  attributes 
in  other  worlds;  and  communicating  the  blessings  of 
existence  and  providential  care  to  other  systems  of 
creation. 

Thus  extending  its  eager  views  to  the  contemplation 
of  objects  so  vast,  so  various,  and  so  magnificent,  our 
souls  feel  the  narrowness  of  their  faculties  to  comprehend 
the  divine  operations,  and  are  overwhelmed  in  the  con- 
templation of  infinite  power  and  transcendant  glory; 
which  only  the  bright  order  of  celestial  beings — the 
angels  and  archangels,  who  encompass  the  eternal 
throne  of  God,  can  adequately  conceive,  or  duly  cele- 
brate. 

The  pleasures  which  arise  from  tracing  this  power  and 
goodness  will  doubtless  become  incomparably  more  ex- 
alted and  refined,  when  the  faithful  followers  of  the 
Redeemer  of  mankind  shall  be  admitted  to  the  realms  of 
heaven  and  glory,  and  our  souls,  disengaged  from  all 
earthly  impediments,  shall  ascend  above  the  stars,  and 
resemble  those  angelic  beings ; — when  the  most  accurate, 
most  enlarged,  and  most  interesting  knowledge,  will  form 
a  part  of  our  eternal  happiness  ; — when  the  restless  mind 
of  man  shall  no  longer  form  wild  and  inconsistent  theo- 
ries to  account  for  the  formation  of  the  globe  ;  but  the 
volume  of  universal  nature  shall  be  unfolded  to  his  as- 
tonished eyes ; — when  the  laws,  which  regulate  all  orders 
of  created  beings,  shall  be  fully  unfolded  and  clearly 
understood,  and  man  shall  learn  the  true  constitution  of 
the  world  he  now  inhabits,  from  the  time  when  dis* 
cordant  matter  first  obeyed  the  word  of  the  Almighty, 
and  was  called  into  harmony  and  order,  to  the  last 
awful  period  of  its  existence ! 


LOGIC. 


101 


CHAR  III. 


LOGIC. 


Of  all  human  sciences,  that  concerning  man  is  cer- 
tainly the  most  worthy  of  man,  and  the  most  necessary 
part  of  knowledge.  We  find  ourselves  in  this  world 
surrounded  with  a  variety  of  objects;  we  have  powers 
and  faculties  fitted  to  deal  with  them,  and  are  happy  or 
miserable  in  proportion  as  we  know  how  to  frame  a  right 
judgment  of  things,  and  shape  our  actions  agreeably  to 
the  circumstances  in  which  we  are  placed.  No  study, 
therefore,  is  more  important  than  that  which  introduces 
us  to  the  knowledge  of  ourselves.  Hereby  we  become 
acquainted  with  the  extent  and  capacity  of  the  human 
mind ;  and  learning  to  distinguish  what  objects  it  is 
suited  to,  and  in  what  manner  it  must  proceed  in  order 
to  compass  its  end,  we  arrive  by  degrees  at  that  justness 
and  truth  of  understanding  which  is  the  great  perfection 
of  a  rational  being. 

If  we  look  attentively  into  things,  and  survey  them  in 
various  degrees  of  eminence.  Among  the  inanimate 
parts  of  matter,  some  exhibit  nothing  worthy  our  atten- 
tion :  their  parts  seem,  as  it  were,  jumbled  together  by 
mere  chance,  nor  can  we  discover  any  beauty,  order,  or 
regularity  in  their  composition.  In  others  we  discern 
the  finest  arrangement,  and  a  certain  elegance  of  con- 
texture, that  makes  us  affix  to  them  a  notion  of  worth 
and  excellence.  Thus  metals,  and  precious  stones,  are 
conceived  as  far  surpassing  those  unformed  masses  of 
earth  that  lie  every  where  exposed  to  view.  If  we  trace 
nature  onward,  and  pursue  her  through  the  vegetable 
and  animal  kingdoms,  we  find  her  still  multiplying  her 
perfections,  and  rising  by  a  just  gradation,  from  mere 
mechanism  to  perception,  and  from  perception  in  all  its 
various  degrees  to  reason  and  understanding. 

But  though  reason  be  the  boundary  by  which  man  is 
distinguished  from  the  other  creatures  that  surround  him, 
yet  we  are  far  from  finding  it  the  same  in  all.    Nor  is 

9* 


102  YOUNG  MAN  S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLj>i?GE. 


this  inequality  to  be  wholly  ascribed  to  the  original  make 
of  men's  minds,  or  the  difference  of  their  natural  endow- 
ments. For  if  we  look  abroad  into  the  several  nations 
of  the '  world,  some  are  over-run  with  ignorance  and 
barbarity,  others  flourish  in  learning  and  the  sciences  ; 
and  what  is  yet  more  remarkable,  the  same  people  have, 
in  different  ages,  been  distinguished  by  these  very  op- 
posite characters.  It  is  therefore  by  culture,  and  a  due 
application  of  the  powers  of  our  minds,  that  we  increase 
their  capacity,  and  carry  human  reason  to  perfection. 
Where  this  method  is  followed,  knowledge  and  strength 
of  understanding  never  fail  to  ensue  ;  where  it  is  neglect- 
ed, we  remain  ignorant  of  our  own  worth ;  and  those 
latent  qualities  of  the  soul,  by  which  she  is  fitted  to  sur- 
vey this  vast  fabric  of  the  world,  to  scan  the  heavens, 
and  search  into  the  causes  of  things,  lie  buried  in  dark- 
ness and  obscurity. — No  part  of  knowledge,  therefore, 
yields  a  fairer  prospect  of  improvement  than  that  which 
takes  account  of  the  understanding,  examines  its  powers 
and  faculties,  and  shews  the  ways  by  which  it  comes  to 
attain  its  various  notions  of  things.  This  is  properly  the 
design  of  Logic,  which  may  be  justly  styled  the  history 
of  the  human  mind,  inasmuch  as  it  traces  the  progress  of 
our  knowledge,  from  our  first  and  simple  perceptions, 
through  all  their  different  combinations,  and  all  those 
numerous  deductions  that  result  from  variously  compa- 
ring them  one  with  another.  It  is  thus  that  we  are  let 
into  the  natural  frame  and  contexture  of  our  minds,  and 
learn  in  what  manner  we  ought  to  conduct  our  thoughts, 
in  order  to  arrive  at  truth,  and  avoid  error.  We  see  how 
to  build  one  discovery  upon  another,  and  by  preserving 
the  chain  of  reasonings  uniform  and  unbroken,  to  pursue 
the  relation  of  things  through  all  their  labyrinths  and 
windings,  and  at  length  exhibit  them  to  the  view  of  the 
soul,  with  all  the  advantages  of  light  and  conviction. 

But  as  to  the  understanding,  in  advancing  from  one 
part  of  knowledge  to  another,  proceeds  by  a  just  grada- 
tion, and  exerts  various  acts,  according  to  the  different 
progress  it  has  made,  logicians  have  been  careful  to  note 
these  several  steps,  and  have  distinguished  them  in  their 
writings  by  the  name  of  the  operations  of  the  mind. — 
These  they  make  four  in  number  ;  and  agreeably  to  that, 


LOGIC. 


103 


have  divided  the  whole  system  of  logic  into  four  parts, 
in  which  these  acts  are  severally  explained,  and  the  con- 
duct and  procedure  of  the  mind  in  its  different  stages  of 
improvement,  regulated  by  proper  rules  and  observations. 
Now,  in  order  to  judge  how  far  logicians  have  followed 
nature  in  this  distinction  of  the  powers  of  the  understand- 
ing, let  us  take  a  short  view  of  the  mind,  and  the  mariner 
of  its  progress,  according  to  the  experience  we  have  of  it 
in  ourselves,  and  see  whether  the  chain  of  our  own 
thoughts  will  without  constraint  lead  us. 

First,  then,  we  find  ourselves  surrounded  with  a  va- 
riety of  objects,  which,  acting  differently  upon  our  senses, 
convey  distinct  impressions  into  the  mind,  and  thereby 
rouse  the  attention  and  notice  of  the  understanding.  By 
reflecting,  too,  on  what  passes  within  us,  we  become 
sensible  of  the  operations  of  our  own  minds,  and  attend 
to  them  as  a  new  set  of  impressions.  But  in  all  this  there 
is  onlj'  bare  consciousness.  The  mind,  without  proceed- 
ing any  farther,  takes  notice  of  the  impressions  that  are 
made  upon  it,  and  views  things  in  order,  as  they  present 
themselves  one  after  another.  This  attention  of  the  un- 
derstanding to  the  objects  acting  upon  it,  whereby  it 
becomes  sensible  of  the  impressions  they  make,  is  called 
by  logicians  perception ;  and  the  notices  themselves,  as 
they  exist  in  the  mind,  and  are  there  treasured  up  to  be 
the  materials  of  thinking  and  knowledge,  are  distin- 
guished by  the  name  of  ideas. 

But  the  mind  does  not  alwrays  rest  satisfied  in  the  bare 
view  and  contemplation  of  its  ideas.  It  is  of  a  more 
active  and  busy  nature,  and  likes  to  be  assembling  them 
together,  and  comparing  them  one  with  another.  In  this 
complicated  view  of  things,  it  readily  discerns,  that  some 
agree,  and  others  disagree,  and  joins  or  separates  them 
according  to  this  perception.  Thus,  upon  comparing  the 
ideas  of  two  added  to  two  with  the  idea  of  four,  we  at 
first  glance  perceive  their  agreement,  and  thereupon  pro- 
nounce that  two  and  two  are  equal  to  four.  Again,  that 
white  is  not  black,  and  five  is  less  than  seven,  are  truths 
to  which  we  immediately  assent,  as  soon  as  we  compare 
those  ideas  together.  This  is  the  first  and  simplest  act 
of  the  mind,  in  determining  the  relation  of  things,  when 
by  a  bare  attention  to  its  own  ideas,  comparing  any  two 


104         young  man's  book  of  knowledge. 

of  them  together,  it  can  at  once  see  how  far  they  are 
connected  or  disjoined.  The  knowledge  thence  derived 
is  called  intuitive,  as  requiring  no  pains  or  examination  ; 
and  the  act  of  the  mind  assembling  its  ideas  together,  and 
joining  or  disjoining  them  according  to  the  result  of  its 
perceptions,  is  what  logicians  term  judgement. 

Intuition  affords  the  highest  degree  of  certainty ;  it 
breaks  in  with  an  irresistible  light  upon  the  understand, 
ing,  and  leaves  no  room  for  doubt  or  hesitation.  Could 
we  in  all  cases,  by  thus  putting  two  ideas  together  dis- 
cern immediately  their  agreement  or  disagreement,  we 
should  be  exempt  from  error  and  its  fatal  consequences. 
But  it  so  happens,  that  many  of  our  ideas  are  of  such  a 
nature,  that  they  cannot  be  thus  examined  in  concert,  or 
by  any  immediate  application  one  to  another ;  and  then  it 
becomes  necessary  to  find  out  some  other  ideas,  that 
will  admit  of  this  application,  that  by  means  of  them 
we  may  discover  the  agreement  or  disagreement  we 
search  for. — Thus  the  mind  wanting  to  know  the  agree- 
ment or  disagreement  in  extent,  between  two  inclosed 
fields,  which  it  cannot  so  put  together  as  to  discover  their 
equality  or  inequality  hy  an  immediate  comparison,  casts 
about  for  some  intermediate  idea,  which,  by  being  ap- 
plied first  to  the  one,  and  then  to  the  other,  will  discover 
the  relation  it  is  in  quest  of.  Accordingly  it  assumes 
some  stated  length,  as  a  yard,  &c.  and  measuring  the 
fields  one  after  the  other,  comes  by  that  means  to  the 
knowledge  of  the  agreement  or  disagreement  in  question. 
The  intervening  ideas,  made  use  of  on  these  occasions, 
are  called  proofs ;  and  the  exercise  of  the  mind  in  find- 
ing them  out,  and  applying  them  for  the  discovery  of  the 
truths  it  is  in  search  of,  is  what  we  term  reasoning.  And 
here  let  it  be  observed,  that  the  knowledge  gained  by 
reasoning  is  a  deduction  from  our  intuitive  perceptions, 
and  ultimately  founded  on  them.  Thus,  in  the  case  be- 
fore-mentioned, having  found  by  measuring,  that  one  of 
the  fields  makes  three  score  square  yards,  and  the  other 
only  fifty-five,  we  thence  conclude  that  the  first  field  is 
larger  than  the  second.  Here  the  two  first  perceptions 
are  plainly  intuitive,  and  gained  by  an  immediate  ap- 
plication of  the  measure  of  a  yard  to  two  fields,  one  after 
another. — The  conclusion?  though  it  produces  no  less 


LOGIC. 


105 


certain  knowledge,  yet  differs  from  the  others  in  this,  that 
it  is  not  obtained  by  an  immediate  comparison  of  the 
ideas  contained  in  it  one  with  another,  but  is  a  deduction 
from  the  two  preceding  judgments,  in  which  these  ideas 
are  severally  compared  with  a  third,  and  their  relation 
thereby  discovered.  We  see,  therefore,  that  reasoning 
is  a  much  more  complicated  act  of  the  mind  than  simple 
judgment,  and  necessarily  presupposes  it,  as  being  ulti- 
mately founded  on  the  perceptions  thence  gained,  and 
implying  the  various  comparison  of  them  one  with  an- 
other. This  is  the  great  exercise  of  the  human  faculties, 
and  the  chief  instrument  by  which  we  push  on  our  dis- 
coveries, and  enlarge  our  knowledge.  A  quickness  of 
mind  to  find  out  intermediate  ideas,  and  apply  them 
skilfully  in  determining  the  relation  of  things,  is  one  of 
the  principal  distinctions  among  men,  and  that  which 
gives  some  so  remarkable  a  superiority  over  others,  that 
we  are  apt  to  look  upon  them  as  creatures  of  another 
species. 

Thus  far  we  have  traced  the  progress  of  the  mind  in 
thinking,  and  seen  it  rising,  by  natural  and  easy  steps 
from  its  first  and  simple  perfections,  to  the  exercise  of  its 
highest  and  most  distinguished  faculty.  Let  us  now 
view  it  in  another  light,  as  enriched  with  knowledge,  and 
stored  with  a  variety  of  discoveries,  acquired  by  the 
due  application  of  its  natural  powers.  It  is  obvious  to 
consider  it  in  these  circumstances,  as  taking  a  general 
survey  of  its  whole  stock  of  intellectual  acquisitions, 
disposing  them  under  certain  heads  and  classes,  and 
tying  them  together,  according  to  those  connections  and 
dependences  it  discerns  between  them.  It  often  happens, 
in  carrying  on  our  inquiries  from  subject  to  subject,  that 
we  stumble  upon  unexpected  truth,  and  are  encountered 
by  discoveries  which  our  present  train  of  thinking  gave 
no  prospect  of  bringing  in  our  wajr.  A  man  of  clear  ap- 
prehension, and  distinct  reason,  who  after  due  search  and 
examination,  has  mastered  any  part  of  knowledge,  and 
even  made  important  discoveries  in  it,  beyond  what  ho 
at  first  expected,  will  not  suffer  his  thoughts  to  lie  jum- 
bled together  in  the  same  confused  manner  as  chance 
offered  them  :  he  will  be  for  combining  them  into  a  regu- 
lar system,  where  their  mutual  dependence  may  be  easily 


106  YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

traced,  and  the  parts  seem  to  grow  one  out  of  another. 
This  is  that  operation  of  the  mind,  known  by  the  name 
of  disposition  or  method,  and  comes  the  last  in  order,  ac- 
cording to  the  division  of  the  logicians,  presupposing 
some  tolerable  measure  of  knowledge,  before  it  can  have 
an  opportunity  of  exerting  itself  in  any  extensive  degree. 

We  see,  then,  that  this  fourfold  distinction  of  the  pow- 
ers of  the  mind,  into  perception,  judgment,  reasoning, 
and  disposition,  as  well  as  the  order  in  which  they  are 
placed,  have  a  real  foundation  in  nature,  and  arises  from 
the  method  and  procedure  of  our  own  thoughts.  It  is  true, 
there  are  many  other  actions  and  modifications  of  the 
understanding,  besides  those  above  mentioned,  as  believ- 
ing, doubting,  assenting,  &c.  but  these  are  all  implied  in 
the  act  of  reasoning,  in  the  like  manner  as  compounding, 
abstracting,  remembering,  may  be  referred  to  the  first 
operation  of  the  mind  or  perception. 

Having  thus  given  a  general  idea  of  the  four  opera- 
tions of  the  mind,  and  traced  their  connection  and  depen- 
dence one  upon  another,  we  would  next  observe,  that  in 
consequence  of  this  division  of  the  powers  of  the  under- 
standing, Logic  is  divided  into  four  parts,  which  treat 
severally  of  these  acts,  and  give  rules  and  directions  for 
their  due  conduct  and  regulation.  The  operations  them- 
selves we  have  from  nature ;  but  how  to  exert  them  justly, 
and  employ  them  with  advantage  in  the  search  of  truth, 
is  a  knowledge  that  may  be  acquired  by  study  and  obser- 
vation.— It  is  certain  that  we  meet  with  false  reasonings 
as  well  as  just.  Some  men  are  distinguished  by  an  ac- 
curacy of  thinking,  and  a  happy  talent  of  unravelling 
and  throwing  light  upon  the  most  obscure  and  intricate 
subjects. — Others  confound  the  easiest  speculations; 
their  understandings  seem  to  be  formed  awry,  and  they 
are  incapable  of  either  conceiving  clearly  themselves,  or 
making  their  thoughts  intelligible  to  others.  If,  then, 
we  set  ourselves  carefully  to  observe  what  it  is  that 
makes  the  one  succeed  so  well,  and  how  the  others  come 
to  miscarry,  these  remarks  will  furnish  us  with  an  art 
of  the  highest  use  and  excellency  in  the  conduct  of  life. 
Now,  this  is  the  precise  business  of  Logic,  to  explain  the 
nature  of  the  human  mind,  and  the  proper  manner  of 
conducting  its  several  powers,  in  order  to  the  attainment 


LOGIC. 


107 


of  truth  and  knowledge.  It  lays  open  those  errors  and 
mistakes  we  are  apt  through  inattention  to  run  into,  and 
teaches  us  how  to  distinguish  between  truth,  and  what 
carries  only  the  appearance  of  it.  By  this  means  we 
grow  acquainted  with  the  nature  and  force  of  the  under- 
standing, see  what  things  lie  within  its  reach,  where  we 
may  attain  certainty  and  demonstration,  and  when  we 
must  be  contented  with  bare  probability.  These  consi- 
derations sufficiently  evince  the  usefulness  and  benefit,  of 
this  science,  which  ought  to  be  established  as  the  foun- 
dation and  ground-work  of  all  our  other  knowledge,  if 
we  really  wish  to  succeed  in  our  inquiries.  But  we  shall 
now  proceed  to  treat  of  its  parts  separately,  according  to 
the  division  given  of  them  above. 

I.  Of  Simple  Apprehension,  or  Perception* 

The  first  thing  we  observe,  when  we  take  a  view  of 
what  passes  within  us,  is,  that  we  are  capable  of  receiv 
ing  impressions  from  a  variety  of  objects ;  that  distinct 
notices  are  thereby  conveyed  into  the  understanding,  and 
that  we  are  conscious  of  their  being  there.  This  atten- 
tion of  the  mind  to  the  objects  acting  upon  it  is  what  we 
call  simple  apprehension,  and  is  in  fact  the  mind  itself, 
taking  a  view  of  things  as  represented  to  it  by  its  own 
consciousness.  It  is  by  this  means  that  we  come  to  be 
furnished  with  all  those  ideas  about  which  our  thoughts 
are  employed.  For,  being  sensible  of  the  impressions 
made  upon  us,  and  attending  to  the  perceptions  they 
bring,  we  can  renew  them  again  upon  occasion,  even 
when  the  objects  that  first  produced  them  are  removed* 
Now  our  ideas  are  nothing  else  but  these  renewed  repre- 
sentations of  what  we  have  at  any  time  perceived  and 
felt ;  by  means  of  which,  things  are  again  brought  under 
the  view  of  the  mind,  and  seem  to  have  a  kind  of  exist- 
ence in  it.  It  is  true,  we  can  upon  many  occasions 
combine  our  ideas  variously  together,  and  thereby  form 
to  ourselves  representations  of  things  that  never  had  an 
existence  in  nature,  as  when  we  fancy  a  centaur,  or  a 
golden  mountain ;  but  it  is  still  certain,  that  the  ideas 
out  of  which  things  are  made,  are  such  as  have  been  con- 
veyed into  the  mind  by  some  former  impressions.  It 


10$         young  man's  book  of  knowledge, 

remains  therefore  to  inquire,  how  we  came  by  our  first 
Motions  and  perceptions  of  things.  Whence  does  the 
understanding  derive  those  original  impressions  and  cha- 
racters, which  it  can  combine  in  so  many  different  ways, 
and  represent  to  itself  under  such  infinite  varieties  ?  To 
this  I  answer,  that  if  we  attend  carefully  to  what  passes 
in  our  own  minds,  we  shall  observe  two  inlets  of  know- 
ledge, from  whence,  as  from  two  fountains,  the  under- 
standing is  supplied  with  all  the  materials  of  thinking. 

First,  outward  objects,  acting  upon  our  senses,  rouse 
in  us  a  variety  of  perceptions,  according  to  the  different 
manner  in  which  they  affect  us.  It  is  thus  that  we  come 
by  the  ideas  of  light  and  darkness,  heat  and  cold,  sweet 
and  bitter,  and  all  those  other  impressions  which  we  term 
sensible  qualities.  This  great  source  and  inlet  of  know- 
ledge is  commonly  distinguished  by  the  name  of  sensation, 
as  comprehending  all  the  notices  conveyed  into  the  mind 
by  impulses  made  upon  the  organ  of  sense. 

But  these  ideas,  numerous  as  they  are,  are  wholly  de- 
rived to  us  from  without;  there  is,  therefore,  another 
source  of  impressions,  arising  from  the  mind's  attention 
to  its  own  acts,  when,  turning  inwards  upon  itself,  it 
takes  a  view  of  the  perceptions  that  are  lodged  there,  and 
the  various  ways  in  which  it  employs  itself  about  them. 
For  the  ideas  furnished  by  the  senses,  give  the  mind  an 
opportunity  of  exerting  its  several  powers ;  and  as  all  our 
thoughts,  under  whatever  form  they  appear,  are  attended 
with  consciousness,  hence  the  impressions  they  leave, 
when  we  come  to  turn  the  eye  of  the  soul  upon  them,  en- 
rich the  understanding  with  a  new  set  of  perceptions,  no 
less  distinct  than  those  conveyed  in  by  the  senses.  Thus 
it  is  that  we  get  ideas  of  thinking,  doubting,  believing, 
willing,  &c.  which  are  the  different  acts  and  workings  of 
our  minds,  represented  to  us  by  our  own  consciousness. — 
This  second  source  of  ideas  is  called  reflection,  and  evi- 
dently presupposes  sensation,  as  the  impressions  it  fur- 
nishes are  only  of  the  various  powers  of  the  understanding, 
employed  about  perceptions  already  in  the  mind. 

These  considerations,  if  we  duly  attend  to  them,  will 
give  us  a  clear  and  distinct  view  of  the  natural  procedure 
of  the  human  intellect  in  its  advances  to  knowledge. 
We  can  have  no  perception  of  the  operations  of  our  own 


logic. 


103 


minds  until  they  are  exerted :  nor  can  they  be  exerted  be- 
fore the  understanding  is  furnished  with  ideas  about  which 
to  employ  them ;  and  as  these  ideas,  that  give  the  first 
employment  to  our  faculties,  are  evidently  the  perceptions 
of  sense,  it  is  plain  that  all  our  knowledge  must  begin 
here.    This,  then,  is  the  first  capacity  of  the  human 
mind,  that  it  is  fitted  to  receive  the  impressions  made 
upon  it  by  outward  objects  affecting  the  senses ;  which 
impressions,  thus  derived  into  the  understanding,  and 
there  lodged  for  the  view  of  the  soul,  employ  it  in  various 
acts  of  perceiving,  remembering,  considering,  &c.  all  of 
which  are  attended  with  an  internal  feeling  and  con- 
sciousness.   And  this  leads  us  to  the  second  step  the 
mind  takes  in  its  progress  towards  knowledge,  viz.  that 
it  can  by  its  own  consciousness  represent  to.  itself  these 
its  several  workings  and  operations,  and  thereby  furnish 
the  understanding  with  a  new  stock  of  ideas.  From 
these  simple  beginnings  all  our  discoveries  take  their 
rise ;  for  the  mind,  thus  provided  with  its  original  cha- 
racters and  notices  of  things,  has  a  power  of  combining, 
modifying  and  examining  them  in  an  infinite  variety  of 
lights,  by  which  means  it  is  enabled  to  enlarge  the  ob- 
jects of  its  perception,  and  finds  itself  possessed  of  an 
inexhaustible  stock  of  materials.    It  is  in  the  various 
comparison  of  these  ideas,  according  to  such  combinations 
of  them  as  seems  best  to  suit  its  ends,  that  the  under- 
standing exerts  itself  in  the  acts  of  judging  and  reason- 
ing, by  which  the  capacious  mind  of  man  pushes  on  its 
views  of  things,  adds  discovery  to  discovery,  and  often 
extends  its  thoughts  beyond  the  utmost  bounds  of  the 
universe.    Thus  we  see  as  it  were,  at  one  glance,  the 
whole  progress  of  the  soul,  from  the  very  first  dawnings 
of  perception,  till  it  reaches  the  perfection  of  human 
knowledge  ;  nor  shall  we,  among  all  its  vast  stock  of 
discoveries,  or,  that  infinite  variety  of  conceptions  whereof 
they  consist,  be  able  to  find  one  original  idea  which  is 
not  derived  from  sensation  or  reflection,  or  one  complex 
idea  which  is  not  made  up  of  those  original  ones. 

The  ideas  with  which  the  mind  is  thus  furnished,  fall 
naturally  under  two  heads.  First,  those  original  impres- 
sions which  are  conveyed  by  sensation  and  reflection,  and 
which  exist  uniformly  and  without  any  shadow  of  va* 

10 


no 


YOUNG  MAN  S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE* 


rietj,  and  are  called  simple  ideas ;  such  as  the  ideas  of 
colour,  sound,  heat,  &c.  And,  secondly,  those  notions 
which  result  from  the  various  combinations  of  simple 
ideas,  whether  thejr  are  supposed  to  co-exist  in  any  par- 
ticular subject,  or  are  united  together  by  the  mind  when 
it  enlarges  its  conceptions.  These  are  called  complex 
ideas  ;  such  as  a  triangle,  a  square,  &c. ;  and  are  of  two 
kinds :  first,  such  as  are  derived  from  external  objects, 
and  represent  those  combinations  of  thought  which  have 
a  real  existence  in  nature ;  of  this  kind  are  all  our  ideas 
of  substances.  Secondly,  the  conceptions  formed  by  the 
mind  itself,  arbitrarily  uniting  and  putting  together  its 
ideas.  This  makes  by  far  the  largest  class,  and  includes 
all  those  ideas  which  may  be  termed  our  own.  They 
are  called  abstract;  such  as  whiteness,  beauty,  melody 
and  are  produced  in  various  ways ;  for  either  the  mind 
combines  several  simple  ideas  together,  in  order  to  form 
them  into  one  conception,  in  which  the  number  and  qua- 
lity of  the  ideas  united  are  principally  considered,  and 
thus  we  acquire  all  our  compound  notions ;  or  it  fixes 
upon  any  of  our  ideas,  whether  simple  or  compound  •  or 
upon  the  ideas  of  substances,  and  omitting  the  circum- 
stances of  time,  place,  real  existence,  or  whatever  renders 
it  particular,  considers  the  appearance  alone,  and  makes 
that  a  representation  of  all  that  are  of  the  same  kind  ;  or, 
lastly,  it  compares  things  with  one  another,  examines 
their  mutual  connections,  and  thereby  furnishes  itself 
with  a  new  stock  of  notions,  known  by  the  name  of 
relations,  which  are  either  proportional,  as  equal,  more, 
less,  or  natural,  as  father,  mother,  &c.  or  civil,  as  presi 
dent  and  people,  general  and  army,  &c.  This  division 
of  our  ideas,  as  it  seems  to  be  the  most  natural,  and  truly 
to  represent  the  manner  in  which  they  are  introduced 
into  the  mind,  will  be  found  to  include  them  in  all  their 
varieties. 

We  know  that  our  thoughts,  although  so  numerous, 
are  all  contained  within  our  own  breasts,  and  are  invisible. 
But  as  the  Supreme  Being  formed  mankind  for  a  state  of 
society,  he  has  provided  us  with  organs  proper  for  framing 
articulate  sounds,  and  has  given  us  also  a  capacity  of 
using  those  sounds  as  signs  of  all  the  thoughts  we  wish 
to  communicate.    From  hence  are  derived  words  and 


LOGIC. 


Ill 


languages.  For  any  sound  being  once  determined  upon 
to  stand  as  the  sign  of  any  idea,  custom  by  degrees  esta- 
blishes such  a  connexion  between  them,  that  the  appear- 
ance of  the  mind  always  brings  to  our  remembrance  the 
name  by  which  it  is  expressed  ;  and,  in  like  manner,  the 
hearing  of  the  name  never  fails  to  excite  the  idea  which 
it  is  intended  to  denote. 

u  The  ends  of  language  are,2'  says  Locke,  11  first  to 
make  known  one  man's  thoughts  to  another;  secondly, 
to  do  it  with  ease  and  quickness;  and,  thirdly,  thereby  to 
convey  the  knowledge  of  things.  When  language  fails 
in  any  of  these  requisites,  it  is  abused,  or  deficient." 

In  order,  to  show,  then,  our  own  knowledge  of  a  sub- 
ject, to  remove  ignorance,  or  prevent  mistakes  in  the 
minds  of  those  with  whom  we  converse,  it  is  necessary 
to  be  able  to  explain  our  meaning  with  precision  and 
accuracy  of  language.  Logic,  which  teaches  the  nature 
and  rules  of  definition,  will  enable  us  to  do  this.  Defini- 
tion puts  an  end  to  that  ambiguity  which  is  frequently 
apt  to  bewilder  the  understanding,  and  to  produce  dis- 
putes. 

A  definition  is  a  sentence  which  explains  the  meaning 
of  a  complex  idea,  by  expressing  in  proper  words,  the 
simple  ideas  of  which  it  is  composed.  Its  rules  arc,  that 
it  should  be  precisely  adequate  to  the  term  defined;  that 
the  words  employed  in  the  definition  should  be  clearer 
and  better  known  than  the  term  defined ;  and  that  it 
should  be  comprehended  in  terms  which  are  proper,  that 
is,  solely  applicable  to  the  term  defined.  If  these  rules 
be  observed,  the  definition  may  always  be  put  in  the 
place  of  the  term  defined,  which  is  the  true  test  of  its 
correctness. 

If  we  were  unable  to  communicate  our  complex  ideas 
to  each  other  by  means  of  definitions  or  descriptions, 
more  or  less  exact,  it  would  in  many  cases  be  impossible 
to  make  them  known.  This  will  appear  the  more 
evident  in  those  ideas  which  are  solely  the  offspring  of 
the  mind;  for  as  they  have  no  real  objects  in  nature, 
according  to  which  they  are  framed,  if  we  could  not 
convey  them  to  others  by  description,  they  must  be  con- 
fined to  the  limits  of  a  single  mind.  All  the  abstract 
ideas  which  spring  from  the  fancy  of  a  poet,  and  which 


112 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


he  describes  as  real  persons  existing  and  engaged  in 
action,  could  not  extend  their  influence  beyond  his  own 
breast,  or  give  pleasure  to  any  one  but  himself,  if  he 
were  destitute  of  this  faculty  of  displaying  them  by 
words. 

To  simple  ideas  we  shall  find  definition  inapplicable  ; 
because,  as  several  terms  of  a  definition  signify  several 
ideas,  they  cannot,  when  taken  altogether,  represent  one 
idea  which  has  no  composition  at  all :  but  as  they  are 
intended  to  make  known  the  meaning  of  words  standing 
for  all  complex  ideas,  if  we  were  always  careful  to  form 
those  ideas,  and  to  copy  our  definitions  from  them  with 
exactness,  as  a  skilful  painter  does  a  good  likeness,  much 
of  the  obscurity  and  confusion  of  language,  as  it  is  used 
both  in  writing  and  conversation,  might  be  prevented. 

II.  Judgment. 

The  mind  being  furnished  with  ideas,  the  next  step 
necessary  in  the  progress  of  knowledge  is  to  compare 
them  together,  in  order  to  judge  of  their  agreement  or 
disagreement.  In  this  connected  view  of  our  ideas,  if 
the  relation  be  such  as  to  be  immediately  discoverable  by 
the  bare  inspection  of  the  mind,  the  judgments  thence 
obtained  are  called  intuitive,  from  a  word  that  denotes  to 
look  at,  or  into  ;  for  in  this  case  a  mere  attention  to  the 
ideas  compared  is  sufficient  to  inform  us  how  far  they 
are  connected  or  disjointed.  Thus,  "  that  the  whole  is 
greater  than  any  of  its  parts,"  is  an  intuitive  judgment, 
nothing  more  being  required  to  convince  us  of  its  truth, 
than  an  attention  to  the  ideas  of  whole  and  part.  Intui- 
tion, therefore,  is  no  more  than  an  immediate  preception 
of  the  agreement  or  disagreement  of  any  two  ideas.  This 
is  the  first  of  the  three  foundations  of  our  knowledge, 
upon  which  depends  that  species  of  reasoning,  which  is 
called  demonstration;  for  whatever  is  deduced  from  our  in- 
tuitive perceptions  by  a  clear  and  connected  series  of  proofs, 
is  said  to  be  demonstrated,  and  produces  absolute  cer- 
tainly. Hence  the  knowledge  obtained  in  this  manner 
is  what  we  properly  term  science  ;  because,  at  every  step 
of  the  argument,  it  carries  its  own  evidence  with  it,  and 
leaves  no  room  for  doubt.    Demonstration  is  confined  to 


L0GI.C. 


113 


mathematical  studies,  and  they  are  indebted  to  it  for 
their  peculiar  clearness  and  certainty. 

The  second  ground  of  human  judgment,  from  which 
we  infer  the  existence  of  the  objects  which  surround  us, 
and  fall  under  the  immediate  notice  of  our  senses,  is  ex- 
perience. When  we  behold  the  sun,  or  direct  our  eyes  to 
a  building,  we  not  only  have  ideas  of  those  objects,  but 
ascribe  to  them  a  real  existence  independent  of  the  mind. 
It  is  likewise  by  the  information  of  the  senses,  that  we 
judge  of  the  qualities  of  bodies  ;  as  when  we  assert  that 
snow  is  white,  fire  is  hot,  or  steel  hard.  As  intuition  is 
the  foundation  of  all  scientific,  so  is  experience  the  foun- 
dation of  all  natural  knowledge ;  for  the  latter  being 
wholly  conversant  with  objects  of  sense,  or  with  those 
bodies  which  constitute  the  natural  world,  and  we  can 
only  discover  their  properties  by  a  series  of  observations, 
it  is  evident,  that,  in  order  to  improve  this  branch  of 
knowledge,  we  must  have  recourse  to  the  method  of  trial 
and  experiment. 

The  third  ground  of  judgment  is  testimony.  There 
are  many  facts  that  will  not  admit  an  appeal  to  the 
senses.  All  human  actions,  when  considered  as  already 
past,  are  of  this  description.  As  from  the  other  two 
grounds  are  deduced  scientific  and  natural  knowledge, 
so  far  from  this  we  derive  historical ;  by  which  is  meant, 
not  only  a  knowledge  of  the  civil  transactions  of  states 
and  kingdoms,  but  of  all  cases  where  the  evidences  of 
witnesses  is  the  ground  of  our  belief. 

The  act  of  assembling  our  ideas  together,  and  joining 
or  disuniting  them  according  to  the  result  of  our  percep- 
tions, is  called  judgment ;  but  when  these  judgments  are 
expressed  by  words,  they  are  called  propositio?is.  A  pro- 
position, therefore,  is  a  sentence  denoting  some  judgment, 
whereby  two  or  more  ideas  are  affirmed  to  agree  or  dis- 
agree. The  idea  of  which  we  affirm  or  deny  any  thing, 
and  of  course  the  term  expressing  the  idea,  is  called  the 
subject  of  the  proposition.  The  idea  affirmed  or  denied, 
as  also  the  term  expressing  it,  is  called  the  predicate  ; 
and  that  word  which,  in  a  proposition,  connects  these 
two  ideas,  is  called  the  copula ;  and  if  a  negative  particle 
be  annexed,  we  thereby  understand  that  the  ideas  are 
disjoined,  The  substantive  verb  is  commonly  employed 
10* 


114 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOQK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


as  the  copula,  as  in  this  proposition  :  "  God  is  omnipo- 
tent ;"  where  the  verb  substantive  represents  the  copula, 
and  signifies  the  agreement  of  the  ideas  of  God  and 
omnipotence.  But  if  it  be  our  intention  to  separate  two 
ideas,  then,  in  addition  to  the  verb  substantive,  we  must 
also  apply  some  particle  of  negation,  to  express  this  re- 
pugnance. The  proposition,  "  man  is  not  perfect,"  may 
serve  as  an  example  of  this  kind ;  where  the  notion  of 
perfection  being  removed  from  the  idea  of  man,  the  ne- 
gative particle  not  is  inserted  after  the  copula,  to  signify 
the  disagreement  between  the  subject  and  the  predicate. 

Propositions  are  affirmative  or  negative,  universal  or 
particular,  absolute  or  conditional,  simple  or  compound ; 
and  are  generally  divisible  into  self-evident^  or  demon- 
strable. 

When  the  mind  admits  an  agreement  between  two 
ideas,  we  call  the  admission  an  affirmative  judgment ; 
as,  on  the  contrary,  a  negative  judgment  is  the  admission 
of  disagreement  between  the  ideas  compared  :  and  as 
any  two  ideas  compared  together  must  necessarily  either 
agree  or  disagree,  it  is  evident  that  all  our  judgments  are 
included  in  these  two  divisions.  Hence,  likewise,  the 
propositions  expressing  these  judgments  are  all  either 
affirmative  or  negative.  An  affirmative  proposition  con- 
nects the  predicate  with  the  subject,  as  "  a  stone  is 
heavy a  negative  proposition  separates  them,  as  11  God 
is  not  the  author  of  evil."  Affirmation,  therefore,  is  the 
same  as  joining  two  ideas  together  ;  and  this  is  done  by 
means  of  the  copula.  Negation,  on  the  contrary,  denotes 
a  repugnance  between  the  ideas  compared ;  in  which 
case,  a  negative  particle  must  be  employed,  to  show  that 
the  connexion  included  in  the  copula  does  not  take 
place. 

Our  ideas,  according  to  what  has  been  already  observ- 
ed, are  all  single  as  they  enter  the  mind,  and  represent 
individual  objects.  But  as,  by  abstraction,  we  can  render 
them  universal,  so  as  to  comprehend  a  whole  class  of 
things,  and  sometimes  several  classes  at  once,  the  terms 
expressing  these  ideas  must  be  in  like  manner  universal. 
Thus  when  we  say,  "men  are  mortal,"  we  consider 
mortality  not  as  confined  to  one,  or  any  number  of 
men,  but  as  what  may  be  affirmed  without  exception  of 


LOGIC. 


115 


the  whole  species.  By  this  means  the  proposition  be- 
comes as  general  as  the  idea  which  is  its  subject ;  and, 
indeed,  derives  its  universality  entirely  from  that  idea 
being  more  or  less  so,  according  as  it  may  be  extended 
to  a  smaller  or  greater  number  of  individuals. 

A  particular  proposition  has  some  general  term  for  its 
subject,  but  with  a  mark  of  limitation  added,  to  denote 
that  the  predicate  agrees  only  with  some  of  the  indi- 
viduals comprehended  under  a  species,  or  with  one  or 
more  of  the  species  belonging  to  a  genus,  and  not  with 
the  whole  universal  idea.  Thus,  ''some  stones  are 
heavier  than  iron."  In  this  proposition,  the  subject, 
"some  stones,"  implies  only  a  certain  number  of  indi- 
viduals comprehended  under  a  single  species. 

We  may  observe,  therefore,  that  all  propositions  are 
either  affirmative  or  negative;  nor  is  it  less  evident,  that 
in  both  cases  they  may  be  universal  or  particular.  Hence 
arises  the  division  of  them  into  universal  affirmative^  and 
universal  negative;  'particular  affirmative^  and  particular 
negative. 

Propositions  are  either  absolute  or  conditional.  The 
absolute  are  those  wherein  we  affirm  some  property  inse- 
parable from  the  idea  of  the  subject,  and  which  therefore 
belongs  to  it  in  all  possible  cases;  as,  "  God  is  infinitely 
wise," — "  Virtue  tends  to  the  ultimate  happiness  of  man." 
But  when  the  predicate  is  not  necessarily  connected  with 
the  idea  of  the  subject,  unless  upon  some  consideration 
distinct  from  that  idea,  then  the  proposition  is  called 
conditional.  The  reason  of  the  name  is  taken  from  the 
supposition  annexed,  and  may  be  expressed  as  such :  11  If 
a  stone  be  exposed  to  the  rays  of  the  sun,  it  will  contract 
some  degree  of  heat." 

A  due  attention  to  this  division  of  propositions  is  very 
necessary  in  the  pursuit  of  accurate  knowledge.  If  we 
be  careful  never  to  affirm  things  absolutely,  but  when  the 
ideas  are  inseparably  united ;  and  if  in  our  other  judg- 
ments we  distinctly  mark  the  conditions,  which  determine 
the  predicate  to  belong  to  the  subject,  we  shall  be  less 
liable  to  mistake  in  applying  general  truths  to  the 
particular  concerns  of  human  life. 

Propositions,  when  only  two  ideas  are  compared  toge- 
ther, are  in  general  called  simple ;  because,  having  but 


116 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


one  subject  and  no  predicate,  they  are  the  effect  of  a 
single  judgment  which  admits  of  no  subdivision.  But  if 
several  ideas  present  themselves  to  our  thoughts  at  once, 
so  that  we  are  led  to  affirm  the  same  thing  of  different 
objects,  or  different  things  of  the  same  object,  the  propo- 
sitions expressing  these  judgments  are  called  compound; 
because  they  may  be  resolved  into  as  many  others,  as 
there  are  subjects  or  predicates  in  the  whole  complex  de- 
termination of  the  mind.  Thus,  "God  is  infinitely  wise 
and  infinitely  powerful."  Here  there  are  two  predicates, 
"  infinite  wisdom"  and  u  infinite  power,'5  both  affirmed 
of  the  same  subject ;  and  accordingly  the  proposition  may 
be  resolved  into  two  others,  which  distinctly  affirm  these 
predicates. 

When  any  proposition  is  presented  to  the  mind,  if  the 
terms  in  which  it  is  expressed  be  understood  upon  com- 
paring the  ideas  together,  the  agreement  or  disagreement 
asserted  is  either  immediately  perceived,  or  found  to  be 
too  remote  from  the  present  reach  of  the  understanding. 
In  the  first  case,  the  proposition  is  said  to  be  self-evident, 
and  requires  no  proof  whatever;  because  a  bare  atten- 
tion to  the  ideas  themselves  produces  full  conviction  and 
certainty.  But  if  the  connexion  or  repugnance  be  not  so 
readily  perceived,  we  mast  have  recourse  to  reasoning ; 
and  if  by  a  series  of  proofs  we  can  ascertain  the  truth 
proposed,  so  that  self-evidence  shall  accompany  every 
step  of  the  argument,  we  are  then  able  to  prove  our  as- 
sertion, and  the  proposition  is  said  to  be  demonstrable. 
When  we  affirm,  for  instance,  "that  it  is  impossible  for 
the  same  thing  to  be  and  not  to  be,"  whoever  under- 
stands the  terms  used,  perceives  at  the  first  glance  the 
truth  of  what  is  asserted,  nor  can  he  bring  himself  to  be- 
lieve the  contrary.  But  if  we  say,  u  this  world  had  a 
beginning,"  the  assertion  is  indeed  equally  true,  but 
shines  not  forth  with  the  same  degree  of  evidence.  We 
find  great  difficulty  in  conceiving  how  the  world  could  be 
created  out  of  nothing,  and  are  not  brought  to  a  full  as- 
sent of  the  assertion,  until  by  reasoning  we  arrive  at  a 
clear  view  of  the  absurdity  involved  in  the  contrary  sup- 
position. Hence  this  proposition  of  the  kind  we  call 
demonstrable,  as  its  truth  is  not  immediately  perceived, 
but  yet  may  be  made  evident  by  means  of  others  more 


LOGIC. 


117 


known  and  obvious,  from  whence  it  follows  as  a  necessary 
consequence. 

III.  Reasoning. 

It  frequently  happens,  in  comparing  our  ideas  together, 
that  their  agreement  or  disagreement  cannot  be  discerned 
at  first  sight,  especially  if  they  are  of  such  a  nature  as 
not  to  admit  of  an  exact  application  to  each  other.  It 
therefore  becomes  necessary  to  discover  some  third  idea, 
which  will  admit  of  such  an  application  as  the  present 
case  requires;  wherein  if  we  succeed,  the  relation  we  are 
in  search  of  maybe  traced  with  ease.  This  manner  of 
determining  the  relation  between  any  two  ideas  by  the  in* 
tervention  of  a  third,  with  which  they  may  be  compared, 
is  what  we  call  reasoning,  and  is  indeed  the  chief  instru- 
ment by  which  we  extend  our  discoveries,  and  enlarge  our 
knowledge.  The  great  art  consists  in  finding  out  such 
intermediate  ideas,  as,  when  compared  with  the  others  in 
question,  will  furnish  evident  truths ;  because  it  is  only 
by  such  means  we  can  arrive  at  the  knowledge  of  what 
is  concealed  and  remote. 

From  the  limited  nature  of  the  human  mind  arises  the 
necessity  of  reasoning.  When  we  cannot  judge  of  the 
truth  or  falsehood  of  a  proposition  by  the  mere  considera- 
tion of  its  subject  and  predicate,  we  are  obliged  to  com- 
pare each  of  them  with  some  third  idea ;  that  is,  by 
seeing  how  far  they  agree  or  disagree  with  each  other : 
as  for  example,  if  there  be  two  lines,  A  and  B,  and  we 
are  ignorant  whether  they  are  equal  or  not,  we  must  take 
a  third  line,  C,  and  apply  it  to  each  of  them :  if  it  agree 
with  them  both,  then  we  infer  that  A  and  B  are  equal ; 
but  if  it  agree  with  one  and  not  with  the  other,  then  we  - 
conclude  A  and  B  are  unequal ;  if  it  agree  with  neither 
cf  them,  there  can  be  no  comparison.  So  if  the  question 
be  whether  "God  must  be  worshipped,"  we  seek  a  third 
idea ;  suppose  the  idea  of  a  Creator ;  and  say,  our  Crea- 
tor must  be  tvorshipped;  God  is  our  Creator;  therefore 
God  must  be  wor shipped.  The  comparison  of  this  third 
idea  with  the  two  distinct  parts  of  the  question  requires 
two  propositions,  which  are  called  the  premises;  the 
third  proposition  drawn  from  them  is  the  conclusion^  in 


118  young  Man's  book  OF  KNOWLEDGE* 

which  the  question  itself  is  answered,  and  the  subject  and 
predicate  are  joined  either  in  the  negative  or  the  affirma* 
live. 

The  foundation  of  all  affirmative  conclusions  is  laid  in 
this  general  truth,  that  so  far  as  two  ideas  agree  with  any 
third  idea,  they  agree  among  themselves.  The  character 
of  Creator  agrees  with  God,  and  worship  agrees  with  a 
Creator;  therefore  worship  agrees  with  God.  The  foun- 
dation of  all  negative  conclusions  is  this,  that  where  one 
of  the  two  proposed  ideas  agrees  with  the  third  idea,  and 
the  other  disagrees  with  it,  they  must  disagree  so  far  with 
one  another ;  as  if*  for  example-— no  sinners  are  happy  j 
and  if  angels  are  happy,  then  angels  are  not  sinners. 
Thus  appears  the  strict  notion  of  a  syllogism.  It  is  a 
sentence  consisting  of  three  propositions  so  disposed,  that 
the  last  is  necessarily  inferred  from  those  which  pre* 
cede  it. 

1  n  the  constitution  of  a  syllogism,  two  things  are  to  be 
considered :  its  matter  and  its  form.  The  matter  con- 
sists of  three  propositions :  and  these  consist  of  three 
ideas,  or  terms,  variously  joined.  These  three  terms  are 
named  the  major,  the  minor,  and  the  middle.  The  pre* 
dicate  of  the  conclusion  is  called  the  major  term,  because 
it  is  generally  of  a  more  extensive  signification  than  the 
minor  term  or  subject.  The  major  and  minor  terms  are 
called  the  extremes.  The  middle  term  is  the  third  idea 
placed  in  two  of  the  propositions  in  such  a  manner  as  to 
shew  the  connexion  between  the  major  and  the  minor 
terms  in  the  conclusion;  for  which  reason  this  middle 
term  is  sometimes  called  the  argument. 

The  act  of  reasoning,  or  inferring  one  thing  from  an- 
other, is  generally  expressed  by  the  word  therefore^  when 
the  argument  is  formed  according  to  the  rules  of  art; 
though  in  common  conversation  or  writing,  such  words 
as  for,  because,  point  out  the  act  of  reasoning,  as  well  as 
then  and  therefore.  And  wherever  these  arc  used,  a  per* 
feet  syllogism  is  employed,  though  the  three  propositions 
may  not  be  drawn  out  according  to  the  regular  form. 
These  observations  are  principally  applicable  to  simple  or 
categorical  syllogisms,  although  every  syllogism  contains 
something  analogous  to  themu 


LOGIC* 


119 


Of  all  parts  of  logic,  that  which  relates  to  the  struc- 
true  of  syllogisms  least  deserves  the  attention  of  a  student. 
Syllogistic  reasoning  is  a  display  of  truth,  not  a  discovery 
of  it.  It  only  shews  that  the  conclusion  is  contained  in 
the  premises.  Every  syllogism  is  no  more  than  a  parti- 
cular application  of  this  general  principle, — that  what  is 
affirmed  or  denied  of  a  whole  genus$  may  be  affirmed  ot 
denied  of  every  species  or  individual  contained  in  it. 

If  the  forms  of  syllogism  were  necessary  for  the  dis- 
covery of  truth,  what  did  the  world  do,  before  the  days  of 
Aristotle,  without  them  ?  Destitute  of  this  aid,  Moses 
delivered  to  the  children  of  Israel  a  divine  law,  and  So- 
crates taught  clear  and  sound  morality  to  the  Athenians. 

IV.  Method, 

The  fourth  operation  of  the  mind  relates  to  the  ar- 
rangement of  our  thoughts,  when  we  endeavour  to  unite 
them  in  such  a  manner,  that  their  mutual  connection  and 
dependence  may  be  clearly  seen.  This  is  method.  It 
requires  a  proper  distribution  of  all  the  parts  of  a  subject, 
and  that  every  thing  of  the  same  kind  should  be  placed 
in  its  proper  situation.  The  great  principle  of  order  was 
first  displayed  when  the  Almighty,  from  the  rude  mate- 
rials of  chaos,  called  the  world  into  existence,  and 
regularity  was  diffused  through  all  parts  of  nature;  and 
i$  is  conspicuous  in  all  the  best  productions  of  man  in 
art,  science,  and  literature.  Method  is  not  less  an 
advantage  than  an  ornament  to  whatever  subject  it  is 
applied. 

la  the  disposition  of  our  thoughts,  either  for  our  own 
use  alone,  or  when  we  intend  to  communicate  them  to 
others,  there  are  two  modes  of  proceeding,  which  are 
equally  in  our  power  to  choose. 

When  a  whole  subject  is  divided  into  several  parts,  and 
we  proceed  regularly  from  generals  to  particulars,  the 
method  pursued  is  called  the  analytic;  when,  on  the 
contrary,  these  parts  are  united  together  according  to 
their  mutuul  connection  and  affinity,  so  that  the  truths 
first  in  order  contribute  to  the  establishment  of  those 
which  follow,  this  makes  what  is  called  synthetic  method. 
Adopting  this  process,  we  proceed  by  collecting  the 


it 20  YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

scattered  parts  of  knowledge,  and  combining  them  into 
one  system,  in  such  a  manner  that  the  understanding  is 
enabled  to  follow  truth,  without  error  or  confusion, 
through  all  her  different  stages. 

These  two  kinds  of  method  admit  of  easy  illustrations. 
In  learning  grammar,  for  instance,  we  first  acquire  the 
,  knowledge  of  letters ;  we  combine  them  to  make  sylla- 
bles ;  of  syllables  are  composed  words,  and  of  words 
sentences  and  discourses. 

This  is  synthetic  method,  and  is  called  the  method  of 
instruction.  We  may  know  superficially  what  plants 
are  ;  but  it  is  by  the  information  which  the  study  of 
botany  gives,  that  we  become  instructed  in  the  com- 
ponent parts  of  any  one,  and  distinguish  its  calix,  stamina, 
corolla,  pistillum,  species,  and  genus.  We  may  likewise 
have  a  general  notion  of  an  animal;  but  it  is  by  the  study 
of  anatomy  we  gain  a  particular  knowledge  of  its  carti- 
lages, bones,  veins,  nerves  and  all  other  parts.  This  is 
analytic  method,  and  is  called  the  method  of  invention. 

This  short  treatise  may  be  sufficient  to  prove  that 
logic,  beginning  with  the  sources  and  first  principles  of 
thought  ascends  regularly  from  one  act  of  the  under- 
standing to  the  other,  and  connects  our  ideas  in  such  a 
manner,  that  every  stage  of  their  progress  is  clear  and 
satisfactory  ;  that  reasoning  is  the  ability  of  deducing 
unknown  truths  from  those  already  known  ;  and  that 
method  is  necessary  for  marshalling  our  ideas,  and  giving 
clearness  and  regularity  to  them. 


CHAP.  IV. 

OF  ELOQUENCE. 

Eloquence,  in  its  greatest  latitude,  denotes  "that 
art  or  talent  by  which  the  discourse  is  adapted  to  its 
end  ;"  so  to  be  truly  eloquent  is  to  speak  to  the  purpose. 

The  most  essential  requisites  in  eloquence  are,  solid 
argument,  clear  method,  and  an  appearance  of  sincerity 
in  the  speaker,  with  such  graces  of  style  and  utterance 
as  shall  invite  and  command  attention.  Good  sense  must 


&LGQ,UEMCE, 


121 


be  its  foundation.  Without  this,  no  man  can  be  truly 
eloquent.  Before  we  can  persuade,  we  must  first  con- 
vince. Convincing  and  persuading,  though  sometimes 
confounded,  are  of  very  different  import.  Conviction 
affects  the  understanding  only  j  persuasion,  the  will  and 
the  practice.  It  is  the  business  of  the  philosopher  to 
convince  us  of  truth  ;  it  is  that  of  the  orator  to  persuade 
us  to  act  conformably  to  it,  by  engaging  our  affections 
in  its  favour.  Conviction  is  however,  one  avenue  to  the 
heart ;  and  it  is  that  which  an  orator  must  first  attempt 
to  gain ;  for  no  persuasion  can  be  stable,  which  is  not 
founded  on  conviction.  But  the  orator  must  not  be  sa- 
tisfied with  convincing;  he  must  address  himself  to  the 
passions ;  he  must  paint  to  the  fancy,  and  touch  the 
heart;  and  hence,  beside  solid  argument  and  clear 
method,  all  the  captivating  and  interesting  arts,  both  of 
composition  and  pronunciation,  enter  into  the  idea  of 
eloquence. 

Eloquence  may  be  considered  as  consisting  of  three 
kinds,  or  degrees.  The  first,  and  most  inferior,  is  that 
which  endeavours  only  to  please  the  hearers.  Such,  in 
general,  is  the  eloquence  of  panegyrics,  inaugural 
orations,  addresses  to  great  men,  and  other  harangues  of 
this  kind.  This  ornamental  sort  of  composition  may 
innocently  amuse  and  entertain  the  mind,  and  may  be 
connected,  at  the  same  time,  with  very  useful  sentiments. 
But  it  must  be  acknowledged,  that  where  the  speaker  in- 
tends only  to  shine  and  to  please,  there  is  no  small  danger 
of  art  being  strained  into  ostentation,  and  of  the  composi- 
tion becoming  tiresome  and  insipid. 

A  second,  and  a  superior  degree  of  eloquence  is,  when 
the  speaker  proposes,  not  merely  to  please,  but  likewise 
to  inform,  to  instruct,  to  convince;  when  his  art  is 
employed  in  removing  prejudices  against  himself  and  his 
cause  ;  in  selecting  the  most  proper  arguments,  stating 
them  with  the  greatest  force,  disposing  of  them  in  the 
best  order,  expressing  and  delivering  them  with  propriety 
and  beauty,  and  thereby  preparing  us  to  pass  that  judg- 
ment, or  favour  that  side  of  the  cause,  to  which  he  desires 
to  bring  us.  Within  this  degree,  chiefly,  is  employed 
the  eloquence  of  the  bar. 

Yet  there  remains  a  third,  and  still  higher  degree  of 
U 


122        young  man's  book  of  knowledge. 


eloquence,  by  which  we  are  not  only  convinced,  but  are 
interested,  agitated,  and  carried  along  with  the  speaker; 
our  passions  arise  with  his;  we  share  all  his  emotions, 
we  love,  we  hate,  we  resent,  as  he  inspires  us ;  and  are 
prepared  to  resolve,  or  to  act,  with  vigour  and  warmth. 
Debate,  in  popular  assemblies,  opens  the  most  extensive 
field  for  the  exercise  of  this  species  of  eloquence ;  and  the 
pulpit  likewise  admits  it. 

It  is  necessary  to  remark,  that  this  high  species  of  elo- 
quence is  always  the  offspring  of  passion.  By  passion, 
we  mean  that  state  of  mind  in  which  it  is  agitated  and 
fired  by  some  object  it  has  in  view.  Hence  the  universally 
acknowledged  power  of  enthusiasm  in  public  speakers, 
affecting  their  audience.  Hence  all  studied  declamation, 
and  laboured  ornaments  of  style,  which  show  the  mind 
to  be  cool  and  unmoved,  are  so  incompatible  with  persua- 
sive eloquence.  Hence  every  kind  of  affectation  in  ges- 
ture and  pronunciation,  diminish  so  much  the  merits  of  a 
speaker,  Hence,  in  fine,  the  necessity  of  being,  and  of 
being  believed  to  be  disinterested  and  in  earnest,  in  order 
to  persuade. 

The  foundation  of  every  species  of  eloquence,  is  good 
sense  and  solid  thought.  To  speak  weli^says  Cicero,  is 
to  speak  justly,  methodically,  floridly )  and  copiously. 

Now,  in  order  to  speak  justly,  or  pertinently,  a  person 
must  be  master  of  his  subject,  that  he  may  be  able  to  say 
all  that  is  proper,  and  avoid  whatever  may  appear  foreign 
and  trifling.  And  he  must  clothe  his  thoughts  with  such 
words  and  expressions  as  are  most  suited  to  the  nature  of 
the  argument,  and  will  give  it  the  greatest  force  and  evi- 
dence. 

And  as  it  teaches  to  speak  justly,  so  likewise  methodi- 
cally. This  requires  that  all  the  parts  of  a  discourse  be 
placed  in  their  proper  order,  and  with  such  just  connec- 
tion, as  to  reflect  a  light  upon  each  other,  and  thereby  to 
render  the  whole  both  clear  in  itself,  and  easy  to  be  re- 
tained. 

To  speak  floridly r,  requires  all  the  beauties  and  flowers 
of  language — the  best  sense  and  the  clearest  reasoning  ; 
in  short,  it  comprehends  the  whole  subject  of  elocution. 

But  nothing  appears  of  more  force  in  oratory  than  a 
copiousmss  of  expression,  or  a  proper  manner  of  enlarge- 


ELOQUENCE. 


123 


ment,  suited  to  the  nature  of  the  subject ;  which  is  of 
great  use  in  persuasion,  and  forms  the  last  part  of  speak- 
ing well. 

To  ascertain  the  leading  principles  relating  to  eloquence 
in  general,  it  may  be  sufficient  to  consider  the  subject  un- 
der five  distinct  heads. 

I.  The  sources  of  argument. 

II.  The  different  kinds  of  style. 

III.  The  ornaments  of  a  composition. 

IV.  The  arrangement  of  the  different  parts  of  a  com- 
position. 

V.  Propriety  of  delivery  and  action. 

L  The  Sources  of  Argument, 

The  basis  of  eloquence  is  invention.  This  faculty, 
strictly  speaking,  relates  to  discovery  rather  than  creation, 
and  must  be  understood  to  signify  new  associations  of 
those  ideas  which  had  been  previously  stored  in  the  mind. 
It  is  this  which  enables  the  speaker  to  form  such  topics 
as  are  necessary  for  the  statement,  explanation,  and  illus- 
tration of  his  subject,  with  a  view  to  conciliate  the  minds 
of  his  hearers,  and  engage  them  in  his  favour.  A  liveli- 
ness of  imagination,  and  a  quickness  of  thought,  are 
great  assistances  to  invention ;  and  they  who  possess 
these  gifts  of  nature,  are  found  to  be  rarely  at  a  loss  for 
reasons  to  defend  truth  and  detect  error.  Of  this  prime 
faculty  the  most  eminent  orators  and  poets  were  in  full 
possession;  and  we  find  that  so  far  from  giving  us  any 
cause  to  complain  of  barrenness  of  invention,  they  displaj' 
the  abundant  produce  of  intellectual  fertility.  This  re- 
mark is  particularly  justified,  among  other  instances,  by 
the  examples  of  Homer,  Plato,  and  Cicero. 

Accurate  learning,  and  extensive  knowledge,  the  pros- 
pects of  nature,  the  discoveries  of  art,  the  aids  of  educa- 
tion, and  the  results  of  experience  and  observation  upon 
mankind,  are  the  proper  funds  to  supply  this  faculty  with 
its  requisite  stores.  Hence  are  furnished  the  various  to- 
pics, whether  external  or  internal,  which  are  applicable 
to  the  different  kinds  of  causes,  whether  demonstrative^ 
deliberative,  or  judicial*  and  which  are  treated  of  at  large 


124  YOUNG  MAN5S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

by  the  rhetoricians,  and  particularly  by  Aristotle  and  Ci- 
cero. The  judgment  must  ever  be  active  in  the  right 
application  of  the  assistance,  which  genius  and  extensive 
knowledge  can  bring  to  every  particular  subject ;  what- 
ever is  trifling  and  superfluous  must  be  rejected  :  and 
nothing  admitted  into  a  composition  that  is  not  fully  to 
the  purpose,  and  calculated  to  answer  the  end  originally 
proposed. 

II.  The  different  Kinds  of  Style, 

Style  is  the  manner  in  which  a  person  expresses  him- 
self by  means  of  words,  and  it  is  a  characteristic  of  his 
thoughts.  It  is  the  description  or  picture  of  his  mind* 
As  eloquence  derives  its  chief  excellence,  beauty,  and 
splendour,  from  style,  it  is  of  the  greatest  importance  to 
the  orator  to  be  well  acquainted  with  its  various  kinds. 

Every  country  possesses,  not  only  a  peculiar  language, 
but  a  peculiar  style,  suited  to  the  temper  and  genius  of  its 
inhabitants.  The  eastern  nations  are  remarkable  for  dic- 
tion, which  is  full  and  sonorous,  strong  and  forcible,  and 
animated  by  bold  and  expressive  figures.  On  the  con- 
trary the  northern  languages  are  deficient  in  these 
respects,  and  generally  partake  of  the  cold  influence  of 
their  climate.  In  the  former,  the  warmth  of  imagina- 
tion predominates  ;  in  the  latter,  there  is  more  of  the 
strictness  and  correctness  of  judgment. 

The  principal  distinctions  of  style  arise  from  the  diver- 
sity of  subjects.  The  same  mode  of  expression  would  be 
as  inconsistent  upon  different  occasions,  as  the  same  dress 
for  persons  of  different  ranks,  or  for  different  seasons  of 
the  year.  Propriety,  therefore,  requires  expression  to  be 
adapted  to  the  nature  of  the  subject.  Style  is  sometimes 
divided  into  three  kinds,  the  low  ox  plain  ;  the  middle  or 
temperate  ;  and  the  lofty  or  sublime.  As,  however  these 
three  divisions  may  be  found,  upon  examination,  to  be  too 
theoretical,  it  may  be  better  to  adopt  a  more  striking  and 
more  marked  distinction,  by  separating  the  style  into  the 
plain  and  the  ground. 

A  plain  style  is  that  of  which  the  words  are  direct  and 
strictly  proper ;  it  sinks  not  to  those  which  are  vulgar 


IP 


ELOQUENCE.  125 

nor  does  it  rise  to  those  which  are  lofty.  As  it  is  em- 
ployed to  describe  things  correctly  and  clearly,  its  proper 
subjects  are  letters,  essays,  narratives,  works  of  science, 
and  philosophy,  or  any  other  topics  that  require  little  or 
no  ornament,  or  addresses  to  the  passions.  Simplicity 
and  ease  are  its  peculiar  beauties ;  and  the  choicest 
examples  of  it  are  to  be  found  in  the  works  of  Xenophon 
and  Ceesar,  and  the  sermons  of  Seeker  and  Wilson  

 They  are 

Veil'd  in  a  simple  robe,  their  best  attire, 
Beyond  the  pomp  of  dress  

The  grand  style  belongs  to  those  subjects  which  admit 
all  the  splendour,  force,  and  dignity  of  composition.  It 
is  the  soil  which  is  favourable  to  the  growth  of  the  fairest 
flowers  of  eloquence.  Here  the  most  select  words,  flow- 
ing periods,  and  bright  and  animated  tropes  and  figures, 
find  their  proper  place.  The  dialogues  of  Plato,  the 
speeches  of  Livy,  and  the  most  admired  orations  of  De- 
mosthenes and  Cicero,  afford  the  best  examples. 

As  it  is  a  matter  of  importance  that  the  style  should  be 
adapted  to  the  subject,  this  care  is  in  no  respect  more  in^ 
dispensable  than  in  the  sublime  and  the  pathetic. 

The  sublime  includes  the  grandest  thoughts  which  the 
mind  is  capable  of  forming.  Such  thoughts  relate  either 
to  divine  subjects,  to  the  works  of  nature,  or  such  expres- 
sions, or  actions,  as  are  esteemed  the  noblest  and  the  best. 
The  sublime  shines  by  its  own  native  light,  and  far  from 
soliciting,  rejects  the  assistance  of  ornament ;  for,  when 
the  mind  is  elevated  to  the  utmost  extent  of  its  powers  by 
a  noble  idea,  it  attends  not  to  the  niceties  of  language ; 
but,  from  its  own  vigorous  and  lively  conception  of  things, 
expresses  them  in  terms  the  most  emphatic,  and  best 
adapted  to  their  nature.  Dignity  and  majesty  are  the 
proper  qualities  of  this  species  of  st}'le,  both  as  to  the 
thought  and  expression ;  as  may  be  best  illustrated  by 
numerous  passages  in  the  Holy  Scriptures,  the  Iliad  of 
Homer,  and  the  Paradise  Lost  of  Milton. 

The  sublime  often  relates  to  subjects  which  the  mind 
}annot  full  comprehend,  and  derives  part  of  its  effect  from 
obscurity.    Thus,  in  surveying  the  prospects  of  nature, 
we  are  more  struck  with  a  view  of  such  mountains  as 
11* 


126 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


Snowden,  or  Benlomond,  when  their  summits  are  envelop- 
ed in  clouds,  than  when  they  are  completely  visible.  A 
cataract  partly  concealed  by  trees,  and  which  is  more 
heard  than  seen,  produces  the  same  effect.  Lightning 
and  thunder  increase  their  terror  from  happening  when 
the  sky  is  black  with  clouds,  or  during  the  night. 

No  passages  are  more  sublime  than  some  in  scripture, 
which  combine  the  terrific  with  the  obscure.  Such  is 
the  description  given  in  the  Psalms,  of  the  manifestation 
of  the  Almighty.  "  There  went  a  smoke  out  in  his  pre- 
sence ;  and  a  consuming  fire  out  of  his  mouth,  so  that 
coals  were  kindled  at  it.  He  bowed  the  heavens  also, 
and  came  down  :  and  it  was  dark  under  his  feet.  He 
rode  upon  the  cherubims,  and  did  fly  ;  he  came  flying 
upon  the  wings  of  the  wind.  He  made  darkness  his 
secret  place,  his  pavilion  round  about  him  with  dark 
water,  and  thick  clouds  to  cover  him."  And  again — ■ 
The  waters  saw  thee,  O  God,  the  waters  saw  thee,  and 
were  afraid :  the  depths  also  were  troubled.  The  clouds, 
poured  out  water,  the  air  thundered ;  and  thine  arrows 
went  abroad.  The  voice  of  thy  thunder  was  heard  round 
about ;  the.  lightning  shone  upon  the  ground  :  the  earth 
was  moved  and  shook  withal.  Thy  way  is  in  the  sea, 
and  thy  paths  in  the  great  waters,  and  thy  footsteps  are 
not  known." 

The  noblest  example  is  recorded  by  Moses  in  the 
Book  of  Genesis,  when  he  describes  the  Almighty  com- 
mencing his  work  of  creation.  And  God  said  let  there 
be  light — and  there  teas  light.  Every  other  instance, 
whether  ancient  or  modern,  whether  taken  from  an  histo- 
rian, orator,  poet,  or  philosopher,  sinks  infinitely  below 
this.  So  that  with  good  reason  did  Longinus,  who  had 
all  the  works  of  antiquity  before  him,  pronounce  his  high 
approbation  of  this  passage. 

With  the  sublime  is  properly  classed  the  pathetic  of 
composition,  wherein  the  greatest  power  is  exerted  over 
the  passions.  Here  we  are  interested,  agitated,  and  car- 
ried along  with  the  speaker  or  writer,  wherever  he  chooses 
to  lead  us  ;  our  passions  are  made  to  rise  in  unison  with 
his;  we  love,  detest,  admire,  resent,  as  he  inspires  us ; 
and  are  prompted  to  feel  with  fervour,  and  to  act  with 
energy,  in  obedience  to  the  particular  impulse  which  he 


ELOQUENCE. 


127 


gives  to  our  minds.  Q,uintilian,  with  great  propriety, 
calls  this  power  of  moving"  the  passions,  the  soul  and 
spirit  of  his  art :  as  the  proper  use  of  the  passions  is  not  to 
blind  or  to  counteract  the  exercise  of  reason,  but  to  move 
in  conformity  to  it ;  if  an  improper  impulse  be  sometimes 
given  to  them,  it  is  not  the  fault  of  the  art,  but  of  the 
artist.  The  pulpit  admits  this  species  of  eloquence,  as  is 
clear  from  the  sermons  of  Masillon  and  Bourdaloue;  but 
the  fictitious  scenes  of  tragedy  open  the  most  extensive 
field  for  its  display. 

The  diction  of  an  orator  may  include  various  kinds  of 
style.  As  he  speaks  sometimes  to  prove  and  instruct, 
sometimes  to  entertain  and  delight,  and  sometimes  to 
rouse,  animate,  and  astonish,  he  must  be  occasionally 
plain,  manly,  figurative,  pathetic,  or  sublime.  All  this 
variety,  however,  is  rarely  necessary  upon  the  same 
occasion.  Due  regard  must  be  paid  to  the  nature  of  the 
subject,  the  dispositions  of  the  audience,  the  time,  the 
place,  and  all  other  circumstances. 

III.  The  Ornaments  of  a  Composition. 

The  most  ancient  languages,  such  as  the  Hebrew  and 
the  Arabic,  are  highly  figurative ;  and  so  are  those  which 
are  spoken  by  the  wild  tribes  of  Indians  and  Americans. 
"We  have  planted  the  tree  of  peace,"  said  an  American 
orator,  "  and  we  have  buried  the  axe  under  its  roots ;  we 
will  henceforth  repose  under  its  shade  ;  and  we  will  join 
to  brighten  the  chain  which  binds  our  nations  together." 
Such  figurative  expressions  as  these,  which  in  an  unim 
proved  state  of  language  arise  from  necessity,  were,  in 
process  of  time,  used  in  more  polished  societies,  for  the 
sake  of  decoration,  like  garments  originally  used  for 
protection  against  inclement  weather,  were  afterwards 
worn  for  the  sake  of  ornament.  The  imagination,  and 
the  passions,  have  an  extensive  influence  over  every  lan- 
guage; the  thoughts  and  emotions  they  suggest  are 
expressed  by  words  taken  from  sensible  objects,  and  the 
names  of  these  objects  were  the  words  first  introduced 
into  all  languages,  and  by  degrees  applied  to  other 
thoughts  more  abstract  and  obscure,  to  which  it  was 
difficult  to  assign  distinct  and  proper  words. 


128 


YOUNG  MAN^S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE, 


The  ornaments  of  composition  are  divided  into  tropes 
and  figures.  Tropes  and  figures  are  distinguished  from 
each  other  in  several  respects ;  but  tropes  mostly  affect 
single  words,  whilst  figures  have  relation  to  whole 
sentences; 

Tropes  and  figures  promote  strength  of  expression  and 
brevity ;  and  brevity,  united  with  perspicuity,  is  always 
agreeable.  Tropes  and  figures  are  often  used  to  supply 
the  unavoidable  defects  of  language,  and  are  favourable 
to  delicacy.  When  the  proper  name  of  any  thing  is  in 
any  respect  unpleasant,  a  well  chosen  trope  will  convey 
the  idea  in  such  a  way  as  to  give  no  offence  to  the  most 
delicate  ear. 

Tropes  and  figures  are  the  dress  of  sentiment ;  and  con- 
sequently should  be  adapted  to  the  character  of  that 
style  they  are  intended  to  embellish  ;  their  uses  are  very 
extensive — as  large  as  universal  nature ;  for  there  are 
scarce  any  two  things  which  have  not  some  similitude 
between  them ;  and  as  almost  every  sentence  is  more  of 
less  figurative,  therefore  they  require  to  be  judiciously 
applied. 

In  general,  tropes  and  figures  of  speech  convey  two 
ideas  to  the  mind,  by  a  departure  from  simplicity  of  ex- 
pression, and  the  change  of  a  word  from  its  proper  signi- 
fication to  some  other,  with  advantage,  either  as  to  beauty 
or  strength :  for  instance,  when  an  artful  man  is  called  a 
foxj  the  reason  of  the  name  is  founded  on  a  similitude  of 
qualities;  if  we  say  Milton  will  always  Uvet  meaning  his 
works,  the  cause  is  transferred  to  the  effect ;  to  say,  "  The 
sun  rises,"  is  a  common  expression,  but  it  becomes  a  mag- 
nificent image  when  expressed  with  dignity^  as  Thomson 
has  done : 

"  But  yonder  comes  the  powerful  king  of  day 
"  Rejoicing  in  the  east." 

By  a  figure  of  speech  being  justly  applied,  even  convic- 
tion is  assisted,  and  truth  is  impressed  on  the  mind  with 
additional  force. 

Having  considered  the  nature  of  tropes  and  figures*  in 
the  next  place  we  shall  mention  such  of  them  as  are  of 
the  greatest  importance,  viz.  metaphor^  allegory,  simile. 


ELOQUENCE. 


129 


metonymy,  personification,  apostrophe,  antithesis,  interro- 
gation, exclamation,  and  climax. 

A  metaphor  is  usually  defined  a  trope,  which  changes 
words  from  their  proper  signification  to  another  different 
from  it,  by  reason  of  some  similitude  or  resemblance 
which  one  object  bears  to  another,  and  is  nearly  allied  to 
simile  or  comparison.  It  is  a  similitude  when  we  say  a 
man  acted  like  a  lion;  and  a  metaphor  when  we  say  he 
is  a  lion.  Metaphors  are  forms  of  expression  very  fre- 
quent in  the  sacred  writings;  as,  " Thy  word  is  a  lamp 
to  my  feet,  and  a  light  to  my  path."  The  use  of  meta- 
phors is  very  extensive;  and  may  be  applied  to  any  two 
things  which  have  the  least  similitude  between  them 

Metaphors  may  be  taken  from  a  similitude  between 
animate  beings;  as,  a  man  may  be  compared  to  a  brute, 
and  asked  why  he  barked  so ;  or,  why  he  bellowed  so  ? 
From  a  similitude  of  inanimate  things,  whether  natural 
or  artificial;  as  clouds  of  smoke,  and  pillars  of  fire,  for 
large  quantities ;  and  from  inanimate  things  being  com- 
pared to  the  actions  and  other  attributes  of  animals ;  thus 
Cicero,  speaking  of  Clodius  says,  "  The  very  altars, 
when  they  saw  that  monster  fall,  seemed  to  move  them- 
selves, and  assert  their  rights  against  him."  Here  the 
words  saw,  move,  and  assert,  are  metaphors  taken  from 
the  properties  of  animals. 

As  to  the  choice  of  metaphors,  those  are  esteemed  the 
finest  and  strongest,  which  give  life  and  action  to  inani- 
mate things  :  the  reason  of  which  is,  because  they  do  as 
it  were  invigorate  all  nature,  introduce  new  forms  of 
beings,  and  represent  their  images  to  the  sight,  which,  of 
all  the  senses,  is  the  quickest,  most  active,  and  yet  the 
most  unwearied. 

Metaphors,  which  are  by  far  the  most  fruitful  of  all 
figures,  should  on  no  occasion  be  too  bold  and  glaring, 
neither  too  profuse ;  nor  should  they  sink  below  the  dig- 
nity of  what  they  are  designed  to  answer,  but  should 
always  be  such  as  are  agreeable  to  the  strain  of  our 
sentiments. 

Allegory  may  be  considered  a  continued  metaphor,  or 
a  continuation  of  several  tropes  in  one  or  more  sentences 
Thus  Cicero  says :  11  Fortune  provided  3rou  no  field,  in 
which  your  virtue  could  run  and  display  itself the 


130  YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE, 

words  field  and  run  are  metaphors  taken  from  corporeal 
thing's,  and  applied  to  the  mind. 

Allegory  was  a  favourite  method  of  delivering  instruc- 
tion in  ancient  times :  for  what  we  call  parables  or  fables, 
are  no  other  than  allegories.  By  words  and  actions 
attributed  to  beasts,  or  inanimate  objects,  the  dispositions 
of  men  were  figured ;  and  what  we  call  the  moral  is  the 
unfigured,  sense,  or  meaning  of  the  allegory. 

Simile  or  comparison,  illustrates  a  thing  by  comparing 
it  with  some  other,  to  which  it  bears  a  resemblance :  as 
when  it  is  said,  "The  actions  of  princes  are  like  those 
great  rivers,  the  course  of  which  every  one  beholds,  but 
their  springs  have  been  seen  by  few."  Similes  are  gene- 
rally but  weak  arguments,  though  often  beautiful  and 
fine  ornaments;  they  are  not  so  much  designed  to  prove 
what  is  doubtful,  as  to  set  things  in  a  clear  and  agreeable 
light ;  and  the  more  exact  the  agreement  is  between  the 
things  compared,  the  greater  beauty  and  grace  is  given 
to  the  figure. 

Metonymy,  is  the  putting  one  word  for  another,  and  is 
founded  on  the  several  relations  of  cause  and  effect.  When 
we  say,  t4  We  have  read  Milton,"  the  cause  is  put  instead 
of  the  effect ;  meaning  u  Milton's  works."  On  the  other 
hand,  when  it  is  said,  11  Gray  hairs  are  honourable,"  we 
put  the  effect  for  the  cause,  meaning  by  14  gray  hairs," 
old  age. 

Personification,  or  the  fiction  of  a  person,  by  which  life, 
action,  or  speech  is  attributed  to  some  inanimate  object ; 
as,  when  we  say,  "The  ground  thirsts  for  rain,"  or  "  The 
earth  smiles  with  plenty;"  "The  heavens  declare  the 
glory  of  God,  and  the  firmament  sheweth  his  handy 
works." 

Apostrophe  or  address,  is  a  turning  off  from  a  regular 
discourse,  and  addressing  some  particular  person  present, 
or  absent,  living,  or  dead,  or  to  inanimate  nature,  has 
something  very  sublime  and  solemn  in  it,  which  we  often 
meet  with  in  sacred  writ ;  as,  "  Hear,  O  heavens,  and 
give  ear,  O  earth !  for  the  Lord  hath  spoken." 

Antithesis  or  opposition,  arises  from  two  objects  being 
set  in  contrast;  and  moral  maxims  naturally  assume 
this  form  as,  "  If  you  wish  to  enrich  a  person,  study  not 
to  increase  his  store*  but  to  diminish  his  desires."    u  If 


feLOCtfJENCE, 


131 


you  regulate  your  desires  according  to  the  standard  of 
nature,  you  will  never  be  poor ;  if  according  to  the  stan- 
dard of  opinion,  you  will  never  be  rich." 

Interrogation,  in  its  literal  sense,  is  merely  asking  a 
question ;  but  it  becomes  figurative  when  the  same  thing 
may  be  expressed  in  a  direct  manner;  and  the  putting  it 
by  way  of  question  gives  it  much  greater  life  and  spirit — 
Thus  Balaam  expressed  himself  to  Balak :  "  The  Lord  is 
not  man  that  he  should  lie,  neither  the  son  of  man  that 
he  should  repent.  Hath  he  said  it  ?  and  shall  he  not  do 
it  1    Hath  he  spoken  it  ?  and  shall  he  not  make  it  good?1 

Exclamations  are  the  effect  of  strong  emotions  of  the 
mind  naturally  venting  themselves  by  this  figure ;  such  as 
joy,  grief,  surprise,  admiration,  &c,  as  in  Pope's  dying 
Christian  to  his  soul : 

"  Lend,  lend  your  wings !  I  mount !  I  fly ! 
"  O  grave !  where  is  thy  victory  1 
"  O  death !  where  is  thy  sting  ? 

.  Climax  is  a  beautiful  kind  of  repetition,  when  the  word 
which  ends  'he  first  member  of  a  period,  begins  the  se- 
cond, and  so  through  each  member,  till  the  whole  is 
finished. — There  is  a  great  deal  of  strength,  as  well  as 
beauty  in  this  figure,  where  the  several  steps  rise  natu- 
rally, and  are  closely  connected  with  each  other.  As  in 
this  example  :  41  There  is  no  enjoyment  of  property  with- 
out government,  no  government  without  a  magistrate, 
no  magistrate  without  obedience,  and  no  obedience  where 
every  one  acts  as  he  pleases." 

IV.    The  Arrangement  of  the  different  Parts  of  a  Com 
position. 

It  is  necessary  that  all  parts  of  a  speech  be  placed  in 
their  proper  order,  and  united  in  such  a  manner,  as  to 
render  the  whole  clear  in  itself,  and  easy  to  be  understood. 
A  regular  arrangement  of  parts  is  of  the  greatest  advan- 
tage to  the  speaker,  as  it  assists  his  memory,  and  carries 
him  through  his  discourse  without  tautology  or  confusion. 
He  ought  never  to  forget  that  perspicuity  of  order  is  as 
necessary  as  perspicuity  of  language* 


132  VOVftG  MAN5S  BOOfc  OF  KNOWLEDGE, 

Cicero  divided  an  oration  into  six  parts,  namely,  tfi€ 
introduction,  narration,  proposition,  confirmation,  confu 
tation,  and  conclusion :  and  this  is  the  arrangement  usu 
ally  adopted  in  systems  of  rhetoric.  The  simplest  division, 
however,  is  that  recommended  by  Aristotle  in  his  Rheto- 
ric, consisting  only  of  the  introduction,  the  statement  of 
the  subject,  its  proofs,  and  the  conclusion. 

There  are  many  excellent  speeches,  however,  where 
several  of  these  parts  are  wanting,  where  the  speaker  uses 
no  introduction,  as  is  the  case  in  the  first  Oration  against 
Cataline,  but  begins  abruptly.  There  are  others  which 
he  finds  it  unnecessary  to  divide  into  parts,  but  enters  at 
once  into  his  subject,  and  is  borne  along  by  the  rapid  tide 
of  argument,  till  he  reaches  his  Conclusion.  As,  however, 
these  have  always  been  considered  as  the  constituent 
parts  of  a  speech,  and  as  in  every  one  some  of  them  must 
necessarily  be  found,  they  properly  obtain  a  place  in  all 
systems  of  rhetoric. 

In  addition  to  the  parts  which  compose  a  regular  ora- 
tion, already  laid  down,  there  are  three  other  measures 
remaining,  to  which  orators  have  recourse ;  viz.  digres- 
sion, transition,  and  amplification. 

Digression,  as  denned  by  GluintiKan  is,  "A  going  off 
from  the  subject  we  are  upon,  to  some  different  thing, 
which  may  be  of  service  to  it." 

Transition  is  often  used,  not  only  after  a  digression, 
but  likewise  upon  other  occasions;  it  is,  "A  form  of 
speech,  by  which  the  speaker  in  a  few  words  tells  his 
hearers  what  he  has  said  already." 

Amplification  is  not  barely  a  method  of  enlarging  upon 
a  thing,  but  so  as  to  represent  in  the  fullest  and  most  com- 
prehensive view,  as  that  it  may  in  the  liveliest  manner 
strike  the  mind  and  influence  the  passions. 

V.  Propriety  of  Delivery  and  Action. 

In  the  delivery  of  a  speech,  great  judgment  is  neces- 
sary ;  and  there  is  no  part  of  eloquence  which  stands 
more  in  need  of  instructions.  The  orator  must  be  careful 
to  avoid  the  extremes  of  awkwardness  and  affectation  ; 
he  must  not  be  inanimate  on  the  one  hand,  or  theatrical 
on  the  ojher.    To  well  regulated  tones,  emphasis,  and 


£L0QU£ftC£. 


133 


pauses,  must  be  united  propriety  of  delivery  and  action. 
It  is  justly  remarked  by  Cicero,  that  every  thought  and 
emotion  of  the  soul  have  their  peculiar  expression  of  voice, 
features,  and  gestures  ;  and  the  whole  body,  every 
variation  of  the  face,  and  tone  of  the  voice,  like  the 
strings  of  a  musical  instrument,  act  agreeably  to  the  im- 
pulse they  receive  from  the  mind.  The  correspondence  of 
passions  and  emotions  with  expression,  as  is  shown  in 
real  life,  must  be  attentively  observed,  and  to  follow  some 
good  living  example  will  be  highly  advantageous.  More 
fully  to  stimulate  his  exertions,  let  him  advert  to  the  ef- 
fects which  have  been  produced  by  excellence  in  this 
branch  of  art.  Was  it  not  the  impassioned  delivery  of 
Demosthenes,  to  which  his  rival  iEschines  has  left  such 
a  remarkable  and  such  an  honourable  testimony,  that 
gave  resistless  persuasion  to  his  speeches  ?  Was  it  not 
the  indignant  countenance,  the  animated  tone,  and  the 
judicious  action  of  Cicero,  which  communicated  such 
commanding  influence,  and  powerful  weight  to  his  argu- 
ments, when  he  confounded  the  audacious  Cataline? 
And  was  it  not  the  dignified  air,  and  the  persuasive  mild- 
ness of  Masillon,  which  added  to  his  religious  instruction 
so  much  force,  when  he  drew  from  Louis  XIV.  a  con- 
fession of  the  power  of  sacred  eloquence  % 

He  who  aspires  to  the  character  of  a  good  public  speak- 
er, must  make  judgment  the  rule  of  his  conduct ;  for  no 
attainments  can  secure  reputation  without  it.  Nothing 
ought  to  be  carried  to  an  extreme  ;  the  flights  of  imagi- 
nation must  be  restrained  by  discretion,  and  propriety 
must  give  laws  to  every  effort.  Thus  will  he  take  the 
surest  road  to  excellence ;  he  will  be  bold,  not  rash ;  se- 
rious, but  not  severe;  gay,  not  licentious;  copious, 
without  redundance,  and  sublime,  without  extravagance 
or  bombast. 

"  Follow  nature,  is  certainly  the  fundamental  law  of 
oratory;  she  instructs  us  to  relate  a  story,  to  support  an 
argument,  to  command  a  servant,  to  utter  exclamations  of 
anger  or  rage,  to  pour  forth  lamentations  and  sorrows, 
not  only  with  different  tones,  but  different  elevations  of 
voice:"  thus  we  observe  the  various  ways  by  which 
nature  expresses  the  several  emotions  and  passions  of  the 
human  mind  ;  and  every  one  will  acknowledge  it  to  he 
12 


134  YOUNG  MAN5S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

of  some  consequence,  that  what  a  man  has  occasion  to  do 
every  hour  in  the  day,  ought  to  be  done  well. 

In  the  next  place,  we  shall  enumerate  some  of  those 
parts  of  elocution  which  render  speaking  and  reading  in- 
telligible and  graceful.  These  may  be  comprehended 
under  the  following  heads ;  viz.  pauses,  accent,  emphasis, 
cadence,  tone  of  voice,  and  gesture. 

Pauses  are  rests  in  speaking  or  reading,  to  mark  the 
distinctions  of  sense ;  during  which,  the  speaker  is  ena* 
bled  to  draw  breath  without  inconvenience,  and  thereby 
preserve  the  command  of  his  voice ;  without  which  the 
sense  must  always  appear  confused  and  obscure,  and  often 
be  misunderstood. 

A  continued  quick  utterance,  where  no  other  pauses 
are  made,  than  those  necessary  for  taking  breath,  is  one 
of  the  worst  faults  a  speaker  or  reader  can  have. 

The  next  thing  to  be  regarded  in  reading  is  the  empha- 
sis;  and  to  see  that  it  be  always  laid  on  the  ernphatical 
word. 

When  we  distinguish  any  particular  syllable  in  a  word 
with  as  trong  voice,  it  is  called  accent;  when  we  thus  dis- 
tinguish any  particular  word  in  a  sentence,  it  is  called 
emphasis  ;  and  the  word  so  distinguished,  the  ernphatical 
word.  And  the  ernphatical  words  (for  there  are  often 
more  than  one)  in  a  sentence,  are  those  which  carry  a 
weight  or  importance  in  themselves,  or  those  on  which 
the  sense  of  the  rest  depends  ;  and  these  must  always  be 
distinguished  by  a  fuller  and  stronger  sound  of  voice, 
wherever  they  are  found,  whether  in  the  beginning,  mid- 
dle, or  end  of  a  sentence. 

Get  place  and  wealth,  if  possible,  with  grace ; 

If  not,  by  any  means,  get  we&ith  and  place. — Pope. 

In  these  lines  the  ernphatical  words  are  accented ;  and 
which  they  are,  the  sense  will  always  discover. 

Here  it  may  not  be  amiss  to  observe  two  or  three 
things. 

1.  That  some  sentences  are  so  full  and  comprehensive, 
that  almost  every  word  is  ernphatical :  For  instance,  that 
pathetic  expostulation  in  the  prophecy  of  Ezekiel, 


Why  will  ye  die  ? 


ELOQUENCE. 


136 


In  this  short  sentence,  every  word  is  emphatical ;  and  on 
whichever  word  you  lay  the  emphasis,  whether  the  first, 
second,  third,  or  fourth,  it  strikes  out  a  different  sense, 
and  opens  a  new  subject  of  moving  expostulation. 

Some  sentences  are  equivocal,  as  well  as  some  words, 
that  is,  contain  in  them  more  senses  than  one;  and  which 
is  the  sense  intended,  can  only  be  known  by  observing 
on  what  word  the  emphasis  is  laid.  For  instance — Shall 
you  ride  to  town  to-day  ?  This  question  is  capable  of 
being  taken  in  four  different  senses,  according  to  the  dif- 
ferent words  on  which  you  \<xy  the  emphasis.  If  it  be 
laid  on  the  word  you,  the  answer  may  be,  No,  but  I  intend 
to  send  my  servant  in  my  stead.  If  the  emphasis  be  laid 
on  the  word  ride,  the  proper  answer  might  be,  No,  I  in- 
tend to  walk  it  If  you  place  the  emphasis  on  the  word 
town,  it  is  a  different  question  j  and  the  answer  may  be, 
No,  for  I  design  to  ride  into  the  country.  And  if  the 
emphasis  be  laid  on  the  word  to-day,  the  sense  is  still 
something  different  from  all  these ;  and  the  proper  an- 
swer may  be,  No,  but  I  shall  to-morrow.  Of  such  import- 
ance sometimes  is  a  right  emphasis,  in  order  to  determine 
the  proper  sense  of  what  we  read  or  speak.  But  I  would 
observe, 

The  voice  must  express,  as  near  as  may  be,  the  very 
sense  or  idea  designed  to  be  conveyed  by  the  emphatical 
word,  by  a  strong,  rough,  and  violent,  or  a  soft,  smooth, 
and  tender  sound. 

Thus  the  different  passions  of  the  mind  are  to  be  ex- 
pressed by  a  different  sound  or  tone  of  voice.  Love,  by  a 
soft,  smooth,  languishing  voice ;  Anger,  by  a  strong, 
vehement,  and  elevated  voice ;  Joy,  by  a  quick,  sweet, 
and  clear  voice ;  Sorrow,  by  a  slow,  flexible,  interrupted 
voice ;  Fear,  by  a  dejected,  tremulous,  hesitating  voice  ; 
Courage  hath  a  full,  bold,  and  loud  voice;  and  Per- 
plexity, a  grave,  steady,  and  earnest  one.  Briefly,  in 
Exordiums  the  voice  should  be  low ;  in  Narrations,  dis- 
tinct; in  Reasoning  slow;  in  Persuasion,  strong.  It  should 
thunder  in  Anger,  soften  in  Sorrow,  tremble  in  Fear,  and 
melt  in  Love. 

The  variation  of  the  emphasis  must  not  only  distin- 
guish the  various  passions  described,  but  the  several 
forms  and  figures  of  speech  in  which  they  are  expressed  ; 


336 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE* 


In  a  Prosopopoeia,  we  must  change  the  voice  as  the 
person  introduced  would. 

In  an  Antithesis,  one  contrary  must  be  pronounced 
louder  than  the  other. 

In  a  Climax,  the  voice  should  always  rise  with  it. 

In  Dialogues,  it  should  alter  with  the  parts. 

In  Repetitions^  it  should  be  loudest  in  the  second  place. 

Words  of  quality  and  distinction,  or  of  praise  or  dis- 
praise, must  be  pronounced  with  a  strong  emphasis. 

Hence,  then,  it  follows, 

Lastly,  That  no  emphasis  at  all  is  better  than  a  wrong 
or  misplaced  one  ;  for  that  only  perplexes,  this  always 
misleads,  the  mind  of  the  hearer. 

The  next  thing  to  be  observed  is  Cadence. 

This  is  directly  opposite  to  Emphasis.  Emphasis  is 
raising  the  voice  ;  Cadence  is  falling  it ;  and,  when  rightly 
managed,  is  very  musical. 

But  besides  a  cadence  of  voice,  there  is  such  a  thing  as 
cadence  of  style  ;  and  that  is,  when  the  sense  being  al- 
most expressed  and  perfectly  discerned  by  the  reader,  the 
remaining  words  (which  are  only  necessary  to  complete 
the  period  (gently  fall  of  themselves  without  any  empha- 
tical  word  among  them,  And  if  your  author's  language 
be  pure  and  elegant,  his  cadence  of  style  will  naturally 
direct  your  cadence  of  voice. 

Cadence  generally  takes  place  at  the  end  of  a  sentence, 
unless  it  closes  with  an  emphatical  word. 

Every  Parenthesis  is  to  be  pronounced  in  cadence  ; 
that  is,  with  a  low  voice,  and  quicker  than  ordinary ; 
that  it  may  not  take  off  the  attention  too  much  from  the 
sense  of  the  period  it  interrupts.  But  all  Apostrophes  and 
Prosopopoeias  are  to  be  pronounced  in  Emphasis. 

The  tones  and  heights  of  the  voice  at  the  close  of  a 
sentence  ought  to  be  infinitely  diversified  according  to 
the  nature  of  the  discourse,  and  meaning  of  the  sentence. 

In  plain  narrative,  and  especially  in  argumentation, 
the  least  attention  to  the  manner  in  which  we  relate  a 
story,  or  support  an  argument  in  conversation,  will  shew, 
that  it  is  more  frequently  proper  to  raise  the  voice,  than  to 
fall  it  at  the  end  of  a  sentence.  Interrogatives,  where 
the  speaker  seems  to  expect  an  answer,  should  almost 
always  be  elevated  at  the  close,  with  a  peculiar  tone,  to 


ELOQUENCE. 


137 


indicate  that  a  question  is  asked.  Some  sentences  are  so 
constructed,  that  the  last  word  requires  a  stronger  empha- 
sis than  any  of  the  preceding;  whilst  others  admit  of 
being  closed  with  a  soft  and  gentle  sound. 

When  there  is  nothing  in  the  sense  which  requires  the 
last  sound  to  be  elevated  or  emphatical,  an  easy  fall,  suf- 
ficient to  shew  that  the  sense  is  finished,  will  be  proper: 
and  in  pathetic  pieces,  especially  those  of  the  plaintive, 
tender,  or  solemn  kind,  the  tone  of  the  passion  will  often 
require  a  still  lower  cadence  of  the  voice.  But  before  a 
speaker  can  be  able  to  fall  his  voice  with  propriety  and 
judgment  at  the  close  of  a  sentence,  he  must  be  able  to 
keep  it  from  falling,  and  to  raise  it  with  all  the  variations 
which  the  sense  requires.  The  best  method  of  correcting 
an  uniform  cadence,  is  often  to  read  select  sentences,  in 
which  the  style  is  pointed,  and  frequent  antitheses  are 
introduced;  and  argumentative  pieces,  or  such  as  abound 
with  interrogatives. 

Tone  of  voice  teaches  us  to  speak  or  read  so  loud  as  to 
be  heard  by  those  about  us,  but  never  higher  than  the  oc- 
casion requires ;  for  the  extremes  of  vociferation,  to  use 
Shakspeare's  phrase,  "offend  the  judicious  hearer  by 
tearing  a  passion  into  rags:"  therefore  let  caution  be 
used  against  every  extreme.  The  music  of  speech  con- 
sists in  the  variations  of  the  voice ;  but  these  variations 
must  be  gradual  to  render  them  pleasant,  being  united 
with  a  graceful  and  expressive  delivery.  Let  the  sound 
be  an  4t  echo  to  the  sense;"  humour  your  voice  a  little 
according  to  the  nature  of  the  subject,  but,  in  plain  nar- 
ration, there  is  no  occasion  for  much  variety  of  tones ; 
the  pauses,  the  accent,  the  emphasis,  the  cadence,  are  the 
only  things  that  herein  require  to  be  observed.  -  The  fun- 
damental rule  to  be  observed  in  reading,  is,  to  let  the  tone 
of  your  voice  be  the  same  as  in  speaking :  do  not  affect 
to  change  that  natural  and  easy  sound  wherewith  you 
speak,  for  a  strange,  new,  awkward  tone ;  but  attend  to 
your  subject,  and  deliver  it  in  the  same  manner  as  you 
would  do  if  you  were  talking  of  it.  This  important  rule, 
if  carefully  observed,  will  correct  almost  all  the  faults  of 
a  bad  pronunciation. 

Gesture  may  be  defined  to  be  the  motions  of  the  coun- 
12* 


138 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


tenance,  and  several  other  parts  of  the  body,  in  speaking 
and  reading. 

When  any  passion  is  raised  within  us,  we  discover  it  by 
the  manner  in  which  we  utter  our  words,  by  the  features 
of  the  face,  and  other  well-known  signs;  for  nature  her- 
self has  assigned  to  every  motion  of  the  soul  its  peculiar 
cast  of  the  countenance,  and  manner  of  gesture.  And  as 
nature  has  taught  us  to  express  the  passions  we  feel,  by 
certain  motions  of  the  body  and  countenance,  we  there- 
fore should  guard  against  awkward  and  disagreeable 
ones ;  and  endeavour  to  acquire  such  as  are  easy  and 
becoming,  keeping  the  body  in  a  natural,  easy,  graceful 
attitude,  thereby  uniting  the  expression  of  action  to  the 
propriety  of  pronunciation,  in  order  to  give  the  sentiment 
its  full  impression  on  the  mind.  But  where  no  particular 
emotion  is  expressed,  a  serious,  firm,  and  manly  look,  is 
always  to  be  preferred.  When  we  attempt  to  express  any 
passion,  we  should  copy  nature,  and  endeavour  to  feel 
what  imagination  is  capable  of  raising  in  the  mind  :  for, 
as  Cicero  observed,  "  Every  motion  of  the  mind  has  na- 
turally its  peculiar  countenance,  voice,  and  gesture  ;  and, 
like  the  strings  of  an  instrument,  act  agreeably  to  the 
impressions  they  receive  from  the  mind." 

As  to  the  several  parts  of  the  body,  the  head  is  the 
most  considerable ;  to  lift  it  up  too  high  has  the  air  of 
arrogance  and  pride  ;  to  stretch  it  out  too  far,  or  throw 
it  back,  looks  clownish  and  unmannerly;  to  hang  it  down- 
ward on  the  breast  shews  an  unmannerly  bashfulness  and 
want  of  spirit ;  and  to  suffer  it  to  lean  on  either  shoulder 
argues  both  sloth  and  indolence.  It  ought  to  be  kept  in 
its  natural  upright  posture,  with  easy  and  gentle  move 
ment,  as  occasion  may  require,  that  the  voice  may  be 
heard  by  all  that  are  present,  and  then  easily  return  again 
to  its  natural  position. 

Nothing  is  more  unbecoming  than  the  violent  motions 
and  agitations  of  the  head.  Butler  ridicules  a  pretender 
to  knowledge  in  the  following  words: — 

"  For  having  three  times  shook  his  head 
"  To  stir  his  wit  up,  thus  he  said." 

HUDIBRAS. 

But  the  eyes  are  the  most  active  ;  and  all  the  passions 


THE  PASSIONS. 


139 


of  the  soul  are  expressed  in  them,  in  a  manner  which 
cannot  possibly  be  represented  by  any  gesture  of  the  body. 

In  speaking  upon  pleasant  and  delightful  subjects,  the 
eyes  are  brisk  and  cheerful :  and,  on  the  contrary,  they 
are  languid  and  faint,  in  delivering  any  thing  melancholy 
and  sorrowful.  This  is  so  agreeable  to  nature,  that, 
before  a  person  speaks,  we  are  prepared  with  the  expec- 
tation of  tfne  or  the  other,  from  his  different  aspect. 

As  to  the  hands,  they  have  a  great  variety  of  motions. 
With  them,  we  call,  dismiss^  threaten,  beseech^  deny,  &c. 
which  seem  to  be,  in  all  nations  and  countries,  the  com- 
mon symbolical  language  of  mankind. 


JL. 


CHAP.  V 

THE  PASSIONS. 

Various  theories  have  been  published,  by  which  their 
authors  have  endeavoured  to  elucidate  the  manner  in 
which  the  passions  are  excited  in  and  act  upon  the  soul, 
the  agitation  of  which  is  expressed  in  many  different 
modes  by  the  features  and  muscles.  Indeed,  the  language 
of  this  ethereal  and  inexplicable  spirit  speaks  through 
every  fibre,  and  each  passion  is  known  to  an  indifferent 
spectator,  without  the  intervention  of  an  explanatory 
sound.  It  would  seem,  from  the  sudden  and  involuntary 
experience  of  agitation,  that  the  passions  were  implanted 
in  the  soul  as  centinels  watchful  for  its  safety,  and  that 
of  the  person  it  inhabits.  Were  this  the  truth,  as  some 
have  observed,  it  might  be  supposed,  that  every  impulse 
would  be  found  correct  and  proper:  sad  conviction, 
however,  proves,  it  is  added,  that  nothing  can  be  more 
ill-founded  than  such  a  supposition,  as  not  an  individual 
exists  at  this  moment  who  has  not  discovered,  that  he  has 
feared  where  he  ought  to  have  esteemed,  hated  when  he 
ought  to  have  admired,  loved  when  he  ought  to  have  de- 
tested, and  in  numerous  instances  been  blinded  either  by 
misconceived  partiality,  or  equally  unjust  prejudice, 


140  YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

Such,  at  least,  is  the  decision  of  unthinking  persons , 
those,  on  the  contrary,  who  do  justice  to  the  Creator,  feel 
and  acknowledge,  that  the  passions  are  the  most  correct, 
of  centinels,  particularly  when  guided  and  governed  by 
the  superior  gift  of  reason. 

Origin  of  the  Passions  and  Affections. 

Some  of  the  Affections,  besides  what  are  called  the 
natural  appetites,  are  commonly  believed  to  be  instinctive, 
and  therefore  take  the  name  of  natural.  Such  are  the 
parental,  filial,  and  fraternal  affections ;  also,  the  love  of 
truth  and  virtue.  Other  affections  are  evidently  factitious; 
such  as  avarice,  friendship,  patriotism. 

The  phenomena  which  cpuntenance  the  supposition 
that  certain  affections  are  implanted  by  nature  in  the 
human  mind,  are  these  :  the  apparent  simplicity,  and 
likewise  the  strength  and  vividness  of  these  feelings, 
together  with  the  difficulty  and  supposed  impossibility  of 
tracing  them  to  any  other  cause :  also,  the  assumed 
universality  and  general  uniformity  of  such  affections  in 
the  human  species. 

It  is,  however,  a  presumption  against  this  supposition 
of  a  double  origin  of  the  affections,  that  feelings  so  simi- 
lar in  their  nature  and  effects  should  be  so  unlike  in 
their  origin.  The  general  rule  of  philosophising  is,  that 
phenomena  of  the  same  kind  are  to  be  traced  up  to  to  the 
same  cause.  Association  is  the  acknowledged  cause  of 
some  of  the  affections,  therefore  probably  of  all. 

The  affections  are  states  of  considerable  pleasure  or 
pain  ;  they  are  evidently  excited  by  external  objects;  but 
these,  excepting  in  the  case  of  impressed  sensations,  can 
only  affect  us  by  consultation :  therefore  all  the  affections 
are  the  result  of  association. 

Successive  impressions,  pleasing  or  painful,  are  made 
upon  the  mind  by  the  objects  of  the  affection  ;  the  coa- 
lescence of  these  impressions  constitutes  the  affection 
either  of  love  or  hatred,  according  to  the  predominance 
either  of  pleasing  or  painful  ideas;  the  affection  thus 
formed  is  modified  by  the  circumstances  of  probable  or 
improbable,  past,  present,  future,  and  the  like ;  and  is  as- 
sociated with  the  sensation  of  the  object,  with  the  idea, 


THE  PASSIONS. 


141 


with  the  name,  and  with  a  variety  of  accidental  circum- 
stances. 

We  love  our  friends:  this  affection  is  composed  of 
complacency  and  good-will.  We  think  upon  them  with 
complacency,  because  they  possess  many  virtues,  because 
they  have  been  the  immediate  cause  of  many  pleasing" 
sensations  and  recollections,  because  their  idea  is  associ- 
ated with  many  other  pleasures  than  those  which  they 
have  directly  produced;  we  desire  their  happiness  from 
a  sense  of  gratitude,  from  the  delight  we  take  in  seeing 
them  happy,  from  the  conviction  that  the  greater  their 
happiness  is,  the  greater  will  be  their  capacity  for  com* 
municating  happiness  to  others,  &c.  These  feelings 
coalesce  into  a  complex  and  vivid  affection  :  we  call  it 
friendship :  it  associates  itself  with  the  persons  of  our 
friends,  with  their  idea,  with  their  name,  and  with  many 
circumstances  naturally  or  fortuitously  connected  with 
thern* 

A  child  is  continually  receiving  marks  of  kindness 
from  his  father :  these  produce  complacency,  and  by 
reciprocating  expressions  of  complacency,  benevolence  is 
generated.  The  parent  sometimes  contradicts  the  will 
of  the  child,  sometimes  expresses  displeasure,  sometimes 
corrects  and  chastises  him.  This  produces  fear.  Com- 
placency, benevolence,  and  fear,  combined  together,  con- 
stitute filial  reverence  and  affection.  If  the  parent  is 
wise,  and  maintains  in  his  conduct  a  just  medium 
between  indulgence  and  severity,  the  filial  affection 
generated  thereby  is  of  the  most  perfect  kind,  and  pro- 
ductive of  the  best  effects  of  filial  duty  and  mutual 
happiness.  If  indulgence  predominates,  the  child  be- 
comes a  prey  to  ungovernable  passions  and  self-will;  and 
as  he  advances  to  maturity,  seeing  the  folly  of  his  parent, 
and  feeling  its  pernicious  effects,  filial  affection  degene- 
rates into  contempt.  If  severity  is  the  character  of  the 
father,  fear  and  aversion  will  be  the  inevitable  feeling  of 
the  child  :  and  the  harsh  and  unkind  parent  will  in  vain 
look  for  the  attentions  of  a  dutiful  and  affectionate  family 
to  soothe  the  infirmities  of  declining  j^ears. 

In  a  similar  way,  it  would  be  easy  to  analyse  the  con- 
jugal, parental,  and  fraternal  affections,  patriotism,  or  the 
love  of  one's  county,  benevolence,  the  love  of  truth  and 


ft 


142  YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  Or  KNOWLEDGE* 

virtue,  the  love  of  God,  &c.  ;  and  thus  to  prove  that  all 
the  affections  of  the  human  mind  are  the  effects  of  asso* 
ciation,  and  not  of  instinct. 

That  the  affections  are  very  complex  feelings,  though 
apparently  simple,  is  evident  from  the  preceding  analysis. 
What  the  elements  are  which  combine  to  constitute  an 
affection  in  any  given  case,  and  in  what  proportion  they 
are  blended  together,  is  very  difficult,  if  not  impossible,  to 
ascertain. 

Impressions  which  are  the  elements  of  filial  and  frater 
nal  affection,  and  the  love  of  truth  and  virtue,  and  the 
like,  are  made  upon  the  mind  before  the  memory  begins 
to  record  its  ideas :  hence  these  affections  are  regarded 
as  having  a  peculiar  claim  to  the  character  of  natural. 
The  universality  of  parental  affection  seems  to  have 
gained  it  the  character  of  instinctive.  Bat  the  transfer 
of  the  mutual  affection  of  the  parents  to  their  infant 
offspring  seems  sufficient  to  account  for  the  origin  of  the 
affection;  while  the  helplessness  of  the  infant,  the  hopes 
of  the  parent,  and  a  multitude  of  other  circumstances 
which  it  is  unnecessary,  and  would  indeed  be  tedious  to 
enumerate,  easily  explain  the  growth  and  strength  of 
parental  affection. 

Classification  of  the  Passions  and  Affections. 

Affections  are  modifications  of  pleasure  and  pain,  aris- 
ing from  the  perception  of  natural  good  or  evil,  according 
to  the  circumstances  in  which  they  occur  to  the  notice 
of  the  mind. 

They  are  sometimes  called  passions,  as  opposed  to 
actions  ;  the  latter  being  perfectly  voluntary,  the  former 
not  being  immediately  dependent  on  the  will. 

Dr.  Cogan  makes  a  curious,  and,  perhaps  a  jnst  dis- 
tinction between  passion,  emotion,  and  affection.  Passion 
is  the  first  feeling  of  which  the  mind  is  conscious,  from 
some  impulsive  cause  by  which  it  is  wholly  acted  upon, 
without  any  efforts  of  its  own,  either  to  solicit  or  to  escape 
the  impression.  Emotions  are  the  sensible  effects  pro- 
duced by  the  impetus  of  the  passions  upon  the  corporeal 
system.  Affections  signify  the  less  violent,  more  delibe- 
rate, and  more  permanent  impressions,  whether  pleasing 


THE   PASSIONS.  143 

or  painful,  whether  of  a  benevolent  or  malevolent  cha- 
racter. 

The  'primary,  or  general  passions,  according  to  Dr. 
Hartley's  distribution  of  them,  are  ten:  five  grateful,  and 
five  ungrateful. 

Of  the  five  grateful  passions,  the  first  is  love,  which 
arises  from  the  contemplation  of  good  in  the  abstract. — 

2.  Desire,  which  is  love  excited  so  as  to  put  us  upon 
action. — 3.  Hope,  which  arises  from  the  probability  of 
attaining  absent  good.  4.  Joy,  from  the  possession  of  the 
present  good. — And,  5,  Pleasing  recollection,  which 
takes  place  when  the  object  is  withdrawn,  and  keeps  up 
love  to  it 

The  five  ungrateful  primary  passions  corresponding 
with  the  five  grateful  ones,  and  excited  by  the  perception 
of  evil  in  similar  circumstances,  are  hatred,  aversion,  that 
is,  active  hatred,  fear,  grief,  and  displeasing  recollection. 

The  affections  are  arranged  by  Dr.  Hartley,  under  six 
general  classes,  viz.  imagination,  ambition,  self-interest, 
sympathy,  theopathy,  and  the  moral  sense. 

First,  the  pleasures  and  pains  of  imagination :  these 
arise  from  the  perception  of  natural  or  artificial  beauty  or 
deformity,  and  are  distinguished  into  seven  kinds: — 
1.  Those  pleasures  which  arise  from  the  beauty  of  the 
natural  world. — 2.  From  the  works  of  art. — 3.  From  the 
liberal  arts  of  music,  painting,  and  poetry. — 4.  From  the 
sciences. — 5.  From  beauty  of  person. — 6.  From  wit  and 
humour.- — 7.  The  pains  which  arise  from  gross  absurdity, 
inconsistencjr,  or  deformity. 

Secondly,  the  pleasures  and  pains  of  ambition,  which 
arise  from  the  opinions  of  others  concerning  us  ;  the 
sense  of  honour  and  of  shame.  These  respect,  1.  External 
advantages  or  disadvantages  ;  the  principal  of  these  are 
fine  clothes,  riches,  titles,  and  high  birth;  with  their 
opposites,  rags,  poverty,  obscurity,  and  low  birth. — 2. 
Bodily  perfections  and  imperfections ;  these  are  beauty, 
strength  and  health;  or  deformity,  imbecility,  and  disease. 

3.  Intellectual  accomplishments  and  defects :  these  are 
sagacity,  memory,  invention,  wit,  learning ;  and  their 
opposites,  folly,  dulness,  and  ignorance.-— 4.  Virtue  and 
vice ;  namely,  piety,  benevolence,  courage,  temperance, 
chastity,  humility ;  and  the  vices  contrary  to  them. 


144 


\7oung  man's  book  of 


-9 

KNOWLEDGE. 


Thirdly,  The  pleasures  and  pains  of  self-interest; 
arising  from  the  possession  or  want  of  the  means  of  hap- 
piness ;  and  security  from,  or  subjection  to,  the  hazards  of 
misery.  Self-interest  is  of  three  kinds, — 1.  Gross  self- 
interest,  or  the  cool  pursuit  of  the  means  whereby  the 
pleasures  of  sensation,  imagination,  and  ambition,  are  to 
be  attained,  and  their  pains  avoided  ;  of  this  the  chief 
species  is  the  love  of  money.— 2.  Refined  self-interest,  or 
the  deliberate  pursuit  of  the  means  that  relate  to  the 
pleasures  and  pains  of  sympathy,  theopathy,  and  the 
moral  sense  ;  when  religion,  virtue,  and  benevolence,  are 
practised  with  an  explicit  view  to  our  own  happiness. — 
3.  Rational  self  inter  est )  or  the  pursuit  of  the  greatest  pos- 
sible happiness,  without  any  possible  partiality  to  this  or 
that  kind  of  happiness,  means  of  happiness,  &c.  This 
is  the  same  thing  with  the  abstract  desire  of  happiness 
and  aversion  to  misery,  which  is  not,  however,  a  univer- 
sal affection,  though  commonly  believed  to  be  such.  The 
hopes  and  fears  relating  to  a  future  state,  or  to  death,  are 
of  this  kind. 

1.  Those  hy  which  we  rejoice  at  the  happiness  of 
others;  these  are  sociality,  benevolence,  generosity,  grati- 
tude.— Sociality  is  the  pleasure  we  take  in  the  company 
and  conversation  of  ot  hers,  and  particularly  of  our  friends 
and  acquaintance,  and  is  attended  with  affability,  com- 
plaisance, and  candour.  In  children  it.  is  generated  by 
the  preponderance  of  pleasure  which  they  receive  from, 
or  in  company  with,  others,  and  the  same  cause  generally 
operates  to  produce  the  same  effects  through  life.  Bene- 
volence is  that  pleasing  affection  which  engages  us  to 
promote  the  welfare  of  others  to  the  best  of  our  power.  I ; 
rises  from  sources  similar  to  sociality,  and  it  is  cherished 
by  the  high  degree  of  esteem  annexed  to  it,  and  the 
advantages  it  produces.  Generosity  is  an  affection  which 
disposes  us  to  forego  great  pleasures,  or  to  endure  great 
pains,  for  the  benefit  of  others :  it  is  benevolence  in  a  high 
degree. — Gratitude  is  benevolence  exercised  towards  a 
benefactor. 

2.  Those  by  which  we  grieve  for  the  misery  of  others ; 
these  are  compassion  and  mercy.  Compassion  is  the  un- 
easiness which  a  man  feels  at  the  misery  of  another.  It 
is  generated  in  children  by  those  expressions  of  pain  in 


THE  PASSIONS. 


145 


others  which  excite  similar  feelings  in  themselves;  by  the 
pains  taken  to  excite  the  sympathy  of  children,  when 
parents,  attendants,  and  others,  are  suffering;  by  the 
restraints  they  often  undergo  from  the  uneasinesses  and 
pains  of  others:  and  in  adults,  it  is  confirmed  by 
irritability  of  nerves,  by  great  similar  trials  and  afflic- 
tions, by  benevolence  to  suffering  friends,  by  the  esteem 
and  praise  annexed  to  it,  and  the  like,  Mercy  is  compas- 
sion exercised  to  an  object  that  has  forfeited  his  title  to 
the  continuance  of  happiness,  or  to  the  removal  of  misery, 
by  some  demerit,  particularly  against  ourselves. 

3.  Those  by  which  we  rejoice  at  the  misery  of  others; 
these  are  moroseness,  anger,  revenge,  jealousy,  cruelty, 
and  malice.  Moroseness,  peevishness,  and  severity,  arise 
from  whatever  makes  disagreeable  impressions  upon  the 
mind,  while  our  fellow  creatures,  or  their  ideas,  are  pre- 
sent with  us.  Anger  is  a  sudden  start  of  passion,  by 
which  men  wish  and  endeavour  harm  to  others.  Revenge 
rejoices  in  it  when  done.  Anger  is  generated  by  the 
desire  to  prevent  harm  to  ourselves,  which  leads  us  to 
threaten  it  to  others,  to  desire  their  harm,  and  so  to  inflict 
it ;  but  in  proportion  as  a  correct  moral  sense  gains  its 
influence  over  us,  anger  is  restricted  to  voluntary  agents 
who  intentionally  injure  us,  and  proportioned  to  the 
degree  of  injury  received.  Malice  deliberately  wishes 
the  misery  of  others.  Cruelty  delights  in  the  view  and 
infliction  of  it,  without  the  consideration  of  injury  re- 
ceived. These  are  habits  of  mind.  They  originate  in 
anger  indulged  and  gratified,  and  are  most  apt  to  rise  in 
the  minds  of  the  proud,  the  selfish,  and  the  timorous. 
Jealousy  arises  from  the  suspicion  of  a  rival  in  the  affec- 
tions of  a  person  of  the  other  sex.  It  is  a  species  of  anger. 

4.  Those  affections  by  which  we  grieve  for  the  happi- 
ness of  other s)  are  emulation  and  envy.  These  arise  from 
the  eager  desire  of  riches,  honour,  power,  &c.  which 
leads  us  to  think,  that  our  happiness  is  diminished  by 
what  others  enjoy. 

5.  The  pleasures  and  pains  of  tkeopatky,  or  those  which 
arise  from  the  contemplation  of  God,  of  his  attributes,  and 
of  our  relation  to  him.  These  are  love  and  fear.  Love 
is  associated  with  gratitude,  confidence,  and  resignation. 
It  is  produced  by  the  contemplation  of  divine  bounty  aad 


146        young  man's  book  of  knowledge. 

benignity  ;  and  it  is  supported  and  increased  by  the 
consciousness  of  upright  intentions,  the  hope  of  future 
reward,  by  prayer,  conversation,  and  contemplation.  The 
love  of  God  rises  in  part  from  interested  motives ;  but 
when  all  the  sources  of  it  coalesce,  it  becomes  as  disinte- 
rested as  any  other  affection,  and  may  rise  to  such  a 
height  as  to  prevail  over  all  other  desires,  interested  or 
disinterested.  Enthusiasm  is  a  mistaken  persuasion  of 
any  person  that  he  is  a  peculiar  favourite  with  God,  and 
that  he  receives  supernatural  marks  thereof.  It  is  a 
degeneration  of  love.  The  fear  of  God  arises  from  a 
view  of  the  evils  of  life,  the  threatenings  of  scripture,  the 
sense  of  guilt,  the  infinity  of  the  divine  attributes,  from 
prayer,  meditation,  and  the  like.  When  restrained  within 
proper  limits,  it  is  awe  and  reverence;  when  excessive,  or 
not  duly  regarded,  it  degenerates  into  superstition,  or 
atheism.  Superstition  is  a  mistaken  opinion  concerning 
the  severity  and  punishments  of  God,  magnifying  these 
in  respect  of  ourselves  or  others.  Atheism  is  speculative 
or  practical.  Speculative  atheism  denies  the  existence 
of  God.  Practical  atheism  is  the  neglect  of  God ;  think- 
ing of  him  seldom  and  with  reluctance;  disregarding  him 
in  actions,  though  not  denying  him  in  words.  Both 
kinds  may  be  supposed  ofien  to  proceed  from  a  sense  of 
guilt,  and  consequent  fear  of  God,  producing  aversion 
to  him. 

6.  The  pleasures  and  pains  of  the  moral  sense,  excited 
by  the  contemplation  of  moral  beauty  and  deformity. — * 
The  moral  sense  is  the  disinterested  approbation  of  piety, 
benevolence,  and  self  government  in  ourselves  and  others, 
and  the  correspondent  disapprobation  of  vice.  It  is  the 
result  of  education  and  mental  discipline ;  it  leads  to  the 
pure  love  of  God  and  the  practice  of  universal  virtue.— 
Scrupulosity  is  a  degeneration  of  the  moral  sense,  which 
arises  from  a  consciousness  of  guilt?  and  an  erroneous 
method  of  reasoning. 


Natural  and  experimental  philosophy.  147 


CHAP.  VI. 

NATURAL  AND  EXPERIMENTAL  PHILOSOPHY, 

Natural  philosophy  is  commonly  defined  to  be  that 
art  or  science  which  considers  the  powers  and  properties 
of  natural  bodies,  and  their  mutual  actions  on  each  other. 
Moral  Philosophy  relates  to  whatever  concerns  the  mind 
and  intellect ;  natural  philosophy  on  the  other  hand,  is 
only  concerned  with  the  material  part  of  the  creation. 
The  Moralist's  business  is  to  inquire  into  the  nature  of 
virtue,  the  causes  and  effects  of  vice,  to  propose  remedies 
for  it,  and  to  point  out  the  mode  of  attaining  happiness. 
The  Naturalist,  on  the  contrary,  has  nothing*  to  do  with 
spirit;  bis  business  is  confined  to  body  or  matter.  The 
business  of  natural  philosophy,  then,  is  to  collect  the  his- 
tory of  the  phenomena  which  takes  place  amongst  natural 
things,  viz.  amongst  the  bodies  of  the  universe  ;  to  inves- 
tigate their  causes  and  effects ;  and  thence  to  deduce  such 
natural  laws,  as  may  afterwards  be  applied  to  a  variety 
of  useful  purposes. 

Natural  things  means  all  bodies ;  and  the  assemblage 
or  system  of  them  all  is  called  the  universe. 

The  word  phenomenon  signifies  an  appearance,  or  in  a 
more  enlarged  acceptation,  whatever  is  perceived  by  our 
senses.  Thus  the  fall  of  a  stone,  the  evaporation  of 
water,  the  solution  of  salt  in  water,  a  flash  of  lightning, 
and  so  on  ;  all  are  phenomena. 

As  all  phenomena  depend  on  proper  tie*  peculiar  to 
different  bodies  ;  for  it  is  the  properly  of  a  stone  to  fall  to- 
wards the  earth,  of  the  water  to  evaporate,  of  the  salt  to 
be  soluble  in  water,  &c.  therefore  we  say  that  the  business 
of  natural  philosophy  is  to  examine  the  properties  of  the 
various  bodies  of  the  universe,  to  investigate  their  causes, 
and  thence  to  infer  useful  deductions. 

By  natural  causes  are  to  be  understood  the  means  by 
which  things  come  at  first  to  have  their  being  or  exist- 
ence :  thus  God  is  the  cause  of  all  created  beings,  because 
from  him  they  receive  their  being :  and  hence  God  is 
called  by  way  of  pre-eminence  the  Jirst  or  primary  cause 
of  all  things* 


148  young  man's  book  of  knowledge. 

Secondary  causes  are  those  which  produce  their  effects 
according  to  the  established  and  original  laws  and  rules, 
implanted  in  their  natures  at  their  first  creation  by  God, 
the  'primary  cause ;  of  all  other  causes  he  is  the  original 
cause ;  and  consequently  they,  with  regard  to  the  first 
cause,  can  be  only  properly  termed  secondary  causes :  so 
the  sun  causeth  vapours ;  and  vapours  cause  clouds ; 
and  clouds  condensed  cause  rain  ;  rain  causeth  springs ; 
rivers,  vegetation,  &c.  but  yet  they  all  act  in  a  secondary 
manner,  under  the  original  influence  of  the  first  cause  as 
aforesaid. 

An  effect  is  whatever  is  produced  or  brought  to  pass  by 
the  action  or  operation  of  any  natural  cause  :  thus  vapours 
are  the  effect  of  the  sun's  attraction  ;  ice  is  the  effect  of  a 
cold  air ;  visibility  the  effect  of  light,  &c.  &c. 

The  application  and  uses  of  natural  philosophy,  or  the 
advantages  which  mankind  may  derive  therefrom,  will  be 
easily  suggested  by  a  very  superficial  examination  of 
whatever  takes  place  about  us.  The  properties  of  the  air 
we  breathe :  the  action  and  power  of  our  limbs  ;  the  light, 
the  sound,  and  other  perceptions  of  our  senses ;  the  ac- 
tions of  the  engines  that  are  used  in  husbandry,  naviga- 
tion, &c. ;  the  vicissitudes  of  the  seasons,  the  movements 
of  the  celestial  bodies,  and  so  forth  ;  do  all  fall  under  the 
consideration  of  the  philosopher.  Our  welfare,  our  very 
existence,  depends  upon  them. 

The  axioms  of  philosophy,  or  the  axioms  which  have 
been  deduced  from  common  and  constant  experience,  are 
so  evident  and  so  generally  known,  that  it  will  be  suffi- 
cient to  mention  a  few  of  them  only. 

1.  Nothing  has  no  property  ;  hence,  2.  No  substance, 
or  nothings  can  be  produced  from  nothing.  3.  Matter 
cannot  be  annihilated,  or  reduced  to  nothing.  4.  Every 
effect  has,  or  is  produced  by,  a  cause,  and  is  proportionate 
to  it. 

It  may  in  general  be  observed,  with  respect  to  those 
axioms,  that  we  only  mean  to  assert  what  has  been  con- 
stantly shewn,  and  confirmed  by  experience,  and  is  not 
contradicted  either  by  reason,  or  by  any  experiment* 
But  we  do  not  mean  to  assert  that  they  are  as  evident  as 
the  axioms  of  geometry,'  nor  do  we  in  the  least  presume 
to  prescribe  limits  to  the  agency  of  the  Almighty  Creator 


NATURAL  AND  EXPERIMENTAL  PHILOSOPHY.  149 


of  every  thing,  whose  power  and  whose  ends  are  too  far 
removed  from  the  reach  of  our  understandings. 

Having  stated  the  principal  axioms  of  philosophy,  it  is 
in  the  next  place  necessary  to  mention  the  rules  of  philoso- 
phising, which  have  been  formed  after  mature  considera- 
tion, for  the  purpose  of  preventing  errors  as  much  as 
possible,  and  in  order  to  lead  the  student  of  nature  along 
the  shortest  and  safest  way,  to  the  attainment  of  true  and 
useful  knowledge. 

Those  rules  are  not  more  than  four,  viz.  1.  We  are  to 
admit  no  more  causes  of  natural  things,  than  such  as  are 
both  true  and  sufficient  to  explain  the  appearances. — 2. 
Therefore,  to  the  same  natural  effects  we  must,  as  far  as 
possible,  assign  the  same  causes. — 3.  Such  qualities  of 
bodies  as  are  not  capable  of  increase  or  decrease,  and 
which  are  found  to  belong  to  all  bodies  within  the  reach 
of  our  experiments,  are  to  be  esteemed  the  universal 
qualities  of  all  bodies  whatever. — 4.  In  experimental  phi- 
losophy we  are  to  look  upon  propositions  collected  by 
general  induction  from  phenomena,  as  accurately  or 
very  nearly  true,  notwithstanding  any  contrary  hypo- 
thesis that  may  be  imagined,  till  such  time  as  other 
phenomena  occur,  by  which  they  either  may  be  cor- 
rected, or  may  be  shewn  to  be  liable  to  exceptions. 

With  respect  to  the  degree  of  evidence  which  ought  to 
be  expected  in  natural  philosophy,  it  is  necessary  to 
remark,  that  physical  matters  cannot  be  in  general 
capable  of  such  absolute  certainty  as  the  branches  of 
mathematics.  The  propositions  of  the  latter  science  are 
clearly  deduced  from  a  set  of  axioms  so  very  simple  and 
evident,  as  to  convey  perfect  conviction  to  the  mind ;  nor 
can  one  of  them  be  denied  without  a  manifest  absurdity. 
But,  in  natural  philosophy,  we  can  only  say,  that  because 
some  particular  effects  have  been  constantly  produced 
under  certain  circumstances;  therefore  they  will,  most 
likely  continue  to  be  produced  as  long  as  the  same 
circumstances  exist ;  and  likewise  that  they  do,  in  all 
probability,  depend  upon  those  circumstances.  Provi- 
dence acts  by  determinate  laws  in  all  the  arrangements  of 
nature.  It  is  not  by  chance,  nor  yet  by  an  arbitrary 
disposal  of  things,  that  the  operations  of  nature  are 
affected.  By  the  Divine  wisdom  all  things  are  disposed 
13* 


150  YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


in  weight  and  in  measure ;  they  are  ordered  on  certain 
principles,  and  effected  in  certain  constant  and  regular 
modes. 

These  modes,  in  which  the  Divine  wisdom  acts  and 
governs  the  material  universe,  are  termed  the  laivs  of 
nature.  We  cannot,  it  is  true,  account  for  every  thing  ; 
we  cannot  trace  effects  to  their  remotest  causes ;  but  yet 
much  is  known  by  the  long  observation,  and  the  dis- 
coveries of  learned  and  ingenious  men  from  time  to  time. 
They  have  therefore  reduced  what  they  call  the  laws  of 
nature,  that  is,  the  manner  in  which  the  operations  of 
nature  are  affected,  to  a  few  principles,  and  these  prin- 
ciples, when  well  understood,  will  apply  to  the  explana- 
tion of  a  long  series  of  phenomena. 

It  is  by  experiment  that  all  the  great  discoveries  of  the 
moderns  have  been  accomplished.  This,  indeed,  forms 
the  grand  line  of  distinction  between  the  ancient  and 
modern  philosophy,  and  this  constitutes  the  sole  merit 
and  superiority  of  the  latter.  The  ancients  reasoned  and 
conjectured  about  things ;  the  moderns  have  submitted 
every  thing  to  the  direct  and  positive  test  of  experience ; 
this  philosophy  has  therefore  been  termed  experimental 
philosophy,  because  all  its  doctrines  and  principles  are 
founded  upon  actual  experiment,  in  opposition  to  that 
philosophy  which  is  founded  on  fancy  and  conjecture. 

Of  Elements,  or  the  First  Principles  of  Bodies. 

To  philosophize,  is  to  observe  minutely,  and  with 
attention ;  to  be  not  satisfied  with  a  superficial  view  of 
the  appearances  of  things,  but  to  examine  into  their 
causes.  One  of  the  first  inquiries  that  strikes  a  reflecting 
mind  is,  u  What  are  the  different  objects  I  see  about  me 
made  of?  What  is  this  hard  substance  of  which  rocks 
and  stones  are  composed?  What  is  water?  What  is 
air  ¥■  A  word  has  been  invented  to  express  the  substance 
of  every  thing  that  is  an  object  of  our  senses ;  that  is, 
matter;  and  matter  and  material  things  are  used  in  oppo- 
sition to  spirit,  or  spiritual  things,  which  are  not  objects 
either  of  our  sight  or  hearing :  thus  the  human  body  is 
matter,  but  the  soul  is  a  spirit.  We  are  not,  however, 
hastily  to  conclude  that  all  this  matter,  which  enters  into 


NATURAL  AtfB   EXPERIMENTAL   PHILOSOPHY.  151 

che  composition  of  things,  is  originally  or  radically  the 
same ;  such  an  idea  was  once  entertained  by  some  of  the 
old  philosophers,  but  we  have  no  experiments  to  warrant 
such  a  conclusion. 

To  find  out,  if  possible,  the  different  kinds  of  matter 
which  enter  into  the  composition  of  bodies,  recourse  has 
been  had  to  what  is  called  chemical  analysis ;  that  is, 
the  different  bodies  or  substances  have  been  dissolved  by 
the  aid  of  heat  and  moisture  into  their  different  parts, 
and  these  parts  have  been  separated,  and  again  ex- 
amined. Wonderful  discoveries  have  resulted  from  these 
experiments.  The  hardest  and  most  solid  bodies  have 
been  changed  into  air  or  vapour ;  for  instance,  the  diamond 
itself.  Hard  and  solid  stones  have  been  found  to  consist 
partly  of  lime,  partly  of  iron,  and  partly  of  some  other 
earth.  Water  has  been  decomposed,  and  found  to  consist 
of  two  aeriform  fluids :  and  these  have  again  been  united, 
by  another  process,  into  their  original  state  of  water. 

The  original  principles  or  particles  of  bodies  have  been 
called  elements,  which  is  derived  from  a  Greek  word,  sig- 
nifying to  create.  Elements  are,  therefore,  those  principles 
or  particles  of  which  bodies  are  created  or  formed.  The 
ancients  supposed  only  four  elements,  from  which  they 
imagined  all  the  different  bodies  in  the  universe  were 
formed.  These  were  fire,  air,  earth  and  water.  But 
since  modern  philosophy  has  analysed  or  divided  different 
bodies  or  substances  into  their  constituent  parts,  we  have 
been  obliged  to  adopt  a  different  arrangement ;  and,  in 
stead  of  one  kind  of  earth,  we  find  there  are  at  least  four 
or  five  kinds,  essentially  different  from  each  other,  besides 
that  metals  and  salts  are  not  earth.  The  air  we  breathe 
we  find  to  be  a  compound  of  two  different  fluids,  as  well 
as  water. 

When  chemical  analysis  has  been  pushed  to  its  utmost 
extent,  and  bodies  have  been  subdivided  as  minutely  as 
possible,  we  are  warranted  in  calling  those  principles, 
which  we  cannot  further  analyse  or  separate,  elementary 
principles.  They  are  the  minutest  particles  of  matter  we 
are  capable  of  observing  ;  and  whether  they  are  in  fact 
susceptible  of  further  subdivision  or  not,  whether  they  are 
simple  or  compound,  it  is  satisfactory  to  know  that  we 


152 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


have  discovered  a  few  substances  from  which  all  other 
bodies  are  compounded  or  derived. 

The  substances  which  philosophers  have  hitherto  been 
unable  to  decompound,  and  which  therefore,  in  the  pre- 
sent state  of  science,  we  are  justified  in  terming  elemen- 
tary, are  the  following : 

1st.  Fire.    Including  light  and  the  electric  fluid. 

2d.  Oxygen.  This  in  the  aeriform  state,  has  been  called 
pure,  vital,  or  dephlogistieated  air.  It  gives  the  acid 
character  to  saline  or  vegetable  bodies  when  united  with 
them ;  and,  when  united  with  metals,  gives  them  the 
caliform  or  cinder-like  appearance,  when  the  metalic 
lustre  is  destroyed  ;  such  is  their  state  in  the  ore. 

3d.  Hydrogen.  This,  in  the  aeriform  state,  is  called 
inflammable  air;  and  being  lighter  than  the  common  air, 
has  been  used  to  inflate  air  balloons.  United  with  oxy- 
gen, it  forms  pure  water. 

4th.  Azote,  which,  in  the  aeriform  state  has  been  called 
phlogisticated  or  impure  air.  It  forms  about  three- 
fourths  of  our  common  air,  and  is  that  part  of  it  which  is 
left  after  animals  have  breathed  in  a  glass  or  receiver  of 
air,  or  after  a  candle  has  ceased  to  burn  in  it.  Condensed 
into  a  fluid,  with  a  certain  portion  of  oxygen,  it  becomes 
nitrous  acid  or  aqua  fortis. 

5th.  Phosphorus.  A  substance  well  known,  and  which, 
united  with  oxygen,  produces  phosphoric  acid. 

6th.  Coal.  Charcoal  is  the  purest  state  in  which  this 
substance  is  found ;  our  common  pit-coal  being  usually 
united  with  other  matter.  In  the  aeriform  state,  coal 
becomes  what  is  called  fixed  air,  or  choke-damp.  It  is 
in  fact,  the  principal  material  in  the  composition  of  all 
vegetable  substances, 

7th.  Sulphur,  which  combined  with  oxygen,  forms 
vitriolic  acid,  oil  or  spirit,  of  vitriol. 

8th.  Muriatic  salt,  or  the  radical  matter  of  common 
salt.  In  the  state  of  common  salt  it  is  united  not 
only  with  a  certain  portion  of  oxygen,  but  with  an  alkali. 
When  simply  united  with  oxygen,  it  is  called  the  acid  of 
sea  salt,  muriatic  acid,  spirit  of  sea-salt,  &c. 

9th.  Fluor,  or  the  radical  matter  of  the  beautiful  fluor 
spar. 

10th.  Borax,  or  the  radical  matter  of  the  salt  used  by 


NATURAL  AND  EXPERIMENTAL  PHILOSOPHY.  153 

braziers,  tinmen,  &c.  for  soldering,  and  known  by  that 
name. 

11th.  The  alkalies.  The  name  alkali  was  derived 
from  one  of  those  substances  called  the  mineral  alkali, 
being  produced  from  the  ashes  of  a  marine  plant  called 
kali :  it  is  also  found  in  the  earth  in  a  mineral  state  in 
some  parts  of  the  world.  The  other,  the  vegetable  alkali, 
is  commonly  known  by  the  name  of  potash,  and  is  ob- 
tained from  the  ashes  of  any  vegetable  matter. 

12th.  Earths,  which  are  at  least  of  five  different  kinds. 

13th.  Metals,  which  are  about  seventeen  in  number. 

These  we  are,  in  the  present  state  of  philosophical 
knowledge-  authorised  in  considering  as  simple  or  ele- 
mentary substances.  They  a/e  usually  found  in  a  state 
of  combination ;  the  first  six  chiefly  enter  into  the  com- 
position of  animal  and  vegetable  bodies,  the  latter  abound 
most  in  the  mineral  world. 

1st.  Fire.  That  this  is  a  fluid  of  a  peculiar  kind  can 
no  longer  be  doubted,  since  it  has  all  the  properties  of  a 
fluid.  It  is  perceptible  to  our  senses  only  in  a  disengaged  or 
active  state :  that  is,  in  passing  from  one  body  to  another: 
it  is,  however,  diffused  very  copiously  throughout  nature. 
By  its  elastic  nature  it  is  the  cause  of  all  fluidity,  and  in- 
deed, was  it  not  for  the  influence  of  this  subtle  fluid,  the 
whole  matter  of  the  universe,  there  is  reason  to  believe, 
would  be  condensed  into  a  solid  mass.  Thus  it  is 
obvious,  that  by  withdrawing  a  certain  portion  of  its 
natural  heat  from  water,  that  fluid  becomes  a  natural 
body,  and  is  converted  into  ice.  But  the  general  effects 
of  fire,  in  the  economy  of  nature,  are  so  important,  that 
it  will  be  necessary  to  treat  of  them  under  a  distinct 
head. 

2d.  Oxygen.  In  the  aeriform  state  this  substance  is 
found  uncombined  with  any  other  matter  than  that  por- 
tion of  elementary  fire  which  is  necessary  to  keep  it  in 
the  aeriform  state,  or  in  the  state  of  an  elastic  fluid ;  for 
all  fluids  are  such  only  by  agency  of  fire,  which  keeps  the 
particles  separate,  and  prevents  their  settling  into  a  solid 
mass.  In  this  state  it  constitutes  about  one-fourth  part  of 
the  air  of  our  atmosphere,  and  it  is  called  pure,  or  vital 
air,  because  it  is  the  only  part  which  will  support  flame, 
or  animal  life  j  for,  if  a  quantity  of  common  air  be  in- 


154 


YOUNG  MAN' S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE 


closed  in  a  close  vessel,  such  as  a  bell-glass,  or  the 
receiver  of  an  air-pump,  we  will  find,  as  soon  as  the  pure 
air  is  consumed,  a  candle  will  go  out  in  it,  nor  can  an 
animal  any  longer  breathe  or  exist  in  it. 

There  is  another  very  extraordinary  property  of 
oxygen  (from  which,  indeed,  it  has  derived  its  present 
name  oxus  signifying,  in  Greek,  sharp  or  acid,)  and  that 
is,  that  it  is  the  matter  which  gives  the  acid  character  to 
all  other  substances,  which  are  susceptible  of  that 
property. — Thus,  if  common  sulphur  or  brimstone,  which 
we  all  know  is  in  itself  not  acid  or  sour,  is  burnt  in  pure 
or  oxygen  air,  or  in  common  air,  (in  which  case  it  im- 
bibes all  the  pure  part  of  it)  it  is  converted  into  vitriolic 
acid. — The  same  is  the  process  in  making  vinegar. 
Beer,  wine,  or  sugar  and  water,  all  which  have  a  strong 
attraction  for  oxygen,  are  exposed  to  the  air,  and,  by 
imbibing  the  pure  part  of  it,  or  the  oxygen,  a  sour  liquor 
is  gradually  produced. 

The  metals,  by  uniting  with  oxygen,  are  deprived  of 
their  lustre,  and  assume  the  appearance,  of  a  calx  or  cin- 
der; thus  iron  becomes  rusty,  that  is.  in  effect,  calcined, 
(for  rust  is  a  calx  of  iron,)  by  being  exposed  to  air  or 
water,  from  which  it  attracts  the  oxygen.  In  this  state 
most  of  the  metals  are  found  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth, 
and  are  called  ores.  From  the  calces  of  some  of  the 
metals,  oxygen  air  may  be  obtained,  chiefly  by  the  appli- 
cation of  heat. 

3d.  Hydrogen  has  received  its  name  from  the  Greek 
hydor,  water,  being  the  chief  constituent  of  that  fluid. — 
Water  is  indeed  composed  of  rather  more  than  three  parts 
of  oxygen  and  one  of  hydrogen.  In  an  aeriform  state  hy- 
drogen constitutes  inflammable  air,  or  gas,  and  is  obtained 
for  the  purpose  of  filling  air  balloons,  &c.  by  any  process 
which  decomposes  water.  Thus,  when  water  is  made 
to  pass  through  a  tube  of  iron  made  red  hot,  such  as  a 
gun-barrel,  the  oxygen  is  absorbed  by  the  iron,  which  is 
then  calcined,  and  the  hydrogen  is  disengaged,  and  comes 
forth  in  the  form  of  inflammable  air  or  gas.  Hydrogen 
enters  pretty  largely  into  the  composition  of  all  animal 
and  vegetable  bodies,  particularly  the  former ;  with  coaly 
water  it  forms  oil,  and  all  the  animal  and  vegetable  oils 
consist  of  different  proportions  of  charcoal  and  hydro- 


NATURAL  AND  EXPERIMENTAL  PHILOSOPHY.  155 


gen.  With  azote  it  constitutes  that  well  known  substance, 
ammoniac,  volatile  alkali,  or  spirit  of  hartshorn. 

4th.  Azote,  which  derives  its  name  from  the  Greek  par- 
ticle a,  signifying  from,  and  zoe,  life,  signifying  that  it 
takes  away  life,  or,  more  properly,  that  it  does  not  sustain 
it,  is  one  of  the  most  abundant  elements  in  nature.  In 
its  aeriform  state,  when  it  is  called  azotic  gas  by  the 
French  philosophers,  it  constitutes  about  two-thirds  of  the 
air  we  breathe.  When  oxygenated,  or  combined  with 
oxygen,  it  forms  nitrous  acid,  or  aqua  fortis.  It  composes 
no  inconsiderable  part  of  animal  and  vegetable  bodies, 
from  which  it  may  be  drawn  by  a  chemical  process ; 
and  the  quantity  of  ammoniac  or  volatile  alkali,  which  in 
putrefaction  is  emitted  by  these  substances,  and  which  is 
the  chief  cause  of  their  foetid  and  disagreeable  smell  in 
that  state,  is  formed  by  an  union  of  the  hydrogen  and 
azote  which  they  contain. 

5th.  Phosphorus  is  chiefly  obtained  from  animal  sub- 
stances ;  it  is  now  procured  by  a  chemical  process  from 
bones.  It  however  exists  in  some  mineral  bodies.  It 
has  so  strong  an  attraction  for  oxygen,  that  its  sponta- 
neous inflammation  and  combustion  is  entirely  owing  to 
this  circumstance.  All  aerial  substances  are  kept  in  that 
state  by  the  matter  of  fire,  which  is  combined  with  them, 
and  which  separates  their  particles,  which  float  in  a  kind 
of  fiery  atmosphere.  When  phosphorus,  therefore,  is  ex- 
posed to  the  air,  the  oxygen,  which  then  exists  in  the 
state  of  pure  air,  or  oxjTgen  gas,  is  attracted  by  it,  and 
condensed,  and  consequently  the  fire  which  is  combined 
with  it  is  let  loose,  and  becomes  active  and  obvious  to 
our  senses. 

6th.  Coal  exists,  we  observed,  in  a  pure  state  only  in 
charcoal.  It  is,  in  fact,  the  great  constituent  of  all  vege- 
table matter,  and  common  pit  coal  is  wood  or  other  vege- 
tables which  have  been  buried  in  the  earth  by  the  general 
deluge,  or  by  some  other  great  convulsion  of  nature.  It 
is,  however,  from  these  circumstances,  necessarily  com- 
bined with  some  mineral  substances,  such  as  sulphur, 
which  it  has  got  from  its  situation  in  the  mines  from 
whence  it  is  extracted ;  charcoal,  on  the  contrary,  is  the 
matter  as  it  existed  in  the  substance  of  the  wood  or  vege- 
table which  contained  it,  the  extraneous  matter  being 


156        young  man's  book  of  knowledge, 


driven  off  by  the  heat  which  is  employed  in  preparing  it. 
The  whole  of  a  piece  of  charcoal  may  be  converted  into 
fixed  air,  called  carbonic  acid  gas  by  the  French  philo- 
sophers, which  proves  sufficiently  that  fixed  air  is  nothing 
but  charcoal  united  with  the  oxygen,  which  is  derived 
from  the  air. 

7th.  Sulphur,  or  brimstone,  is  a  well  known  substance. 
It  chiefly  exists  in  the  mineral  world,  and  abounds  most 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  volcanos.  It  is  a  very  com- 
bustible substance,  because  it  has  a  very  strong  attraction 
for  the  oxygen  which  is  contained  in  the  atmosphere, 
and  which  being  imbibed  by  the  sulphur  in  combustion, 
the  fire  with  which  it  was  united  in  that  state  is  set  free. 
Sulphur  unites  with  the  ores  of  most  metals.  The  crude 
antimony  of  the  shops,  is  antimony  and  sulphur  :  and 
that  beautiful  substance  called  pyrites,  mundic  or  Irish 
diamond,  is  a  combination  of  sulphur  and  iron. 

8th.  Muriatic  matter,  or  the  radical  substance  of  sea- 
salt,  is  not  yet  known  to  exist  in  an  uncombined  state. — • 
United  with  oxygen,  it  forms  marine  acid,  or  spirit  of 
salt,  which  again  united  with  an  alkali,  forms  our  com- 
mon salt. 

9th.  Fluor  also  is  not  found  in  an  uncombined  state. — 
It  is  united  with  oxygen  to  form  the  fluor  acid,  which 
again  united  with  lime,  constitutes  that  beautiful  sub- 
stance termed  fluor  spar,  or  Derbyshire  spar. 

10th.  Borax  resembles  the  two  former  substances,  in 
not  being  found  in  a  pure  and  simple  state.  The  borax 
used  in  commerce,  is  a  compound  salt  formed  from  the 
horacic  acid,  which  necessarily  supposes  an  union  with 
oxygen  and  one  of  the  alkalies. 

11th.  The  alkalies,  called  potash  and  soda,  we  have 
spoken  of  in  a  preceding  part  of  our  work. 

12th  and  13th.  Of  the  earths  and  minerals  we  have 
also  treated  under  a  preceding  head. 

Of  Matter,  and  its  Properties. 

In  general,  we  may  define  matter  to  be,  every  being 
that  acts  upon  our  senses,  either  immediately,  or  by  the 
perceptible  effects  it  produces  upon  other  bodies. 

Every  species  of  matter  that  has  hitherto  come  under 


7 


NATURAL  AND  EXPERIMENTAL  PHILOSOPHY.  157 

our  observation,  has  been  found  to  possess  the  following 
characteristics,  or  properties ;  and,  therefore,  we  are 
perhaps  justifiable  in  considering  them  as  belonging  to 
all  bodies  whatever,  viz.  solidity,  or  impenetratibiliiy, 
divisibility,  and  mobility*  Some  species  of  bodies  have 
other  qualities,  which  are  not  common  to  all,  and  per- 
haps matter  in  general  possesses  properties  which  we  are 
yet  ignorant  of. 

We  do  not  here  consider  solidity  as  opposed  to  fiuiditjr, 
but  as  that  property,  which  every  body  possesses  of  not 
permitting  any  other  substance  to  occupy  the  same  place 
with  it  at  the  same  time.  By  solidity,  or  impenetratibility, 
in  common  language,  is  understood  the  property  of  not 
being  easily  separated  into  parts,  and  therefore  we  must 
be  careful  not  to  confound  this  meaning  of  the  term  with 
the  property  we  have  just  mentioned. 

Divisibility  is  that  property  by  which  matter  is  ca- 
pable of  being  separated  into  parts,  which  may  be 
removed  from  each  other. 

This  divisibility  is  evident  in  bodies  of  a  sensible  mag- 
nitude ;  every  one  knows  that  they  may  be  divided  into 
two,  four,  ten,  or  a  thousand  parts  ;  nor  can  we  ever,  by 
subdividing,  arrive  at  a  part  so  small,  but  we  can  con- 
ceive that  it  consists  of  two  halves.  But  how  far  this 
actual  division  can  be  carried,  whether  to  infinity,  as 
some  suppose,  or  whether  we  should  at  last  arrive  at 
ultimate  atoms,  or  particles,  which,  from  their  nature, 
are  not  capable  of  subdivision,  is  a  point  upon  which 
much  has  been  said,  but  which  has  not  yet  determined. 

However  this  may  be,  the  actual  division  of  matter  can 
be  carried  to  an  amazing  and  inconceivable  extent.  A 
grain  of  gold  is  hammered  by  the  gold-beaters  until  it  is 
the  thirty-thousandth  part  of  a  line  in  thickness,  and  will 
cover  50  square  inches.  Each  square  inch  may  be 
divided  into  200  strips,  and  each  strip  into  200  parts, 
each  of  which  may  be  seen  by  the  eye ;  consequently,  a 
square  inch  contains  40,000  visible  parts,  which  multi- 
plied by  50,  the  number  of  square  inches  which  a  grain 
of  gold  will  make,  gives  2,000,000  parts,  which  may  be 
seen  with  the  naked  eye. 

A  still  more  striking  instance  is  afforded  by  the  manu- 
facture of  gold-lace.  In  making  this,  they  gild  a  bar  of 
14 


i6S 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE 


silver,  and  afterwards  draw  it  out  into  wire,  by  passing  it 
successively  through  holes  of  various  magnitudes,  in 
plates  of  steel.  By  this  means  the  surface  is  prodigiously 
augmented,  notwithstanding  which,  it  remains  gilded,  so 
as  to  preserve  an  uniform  appearance,  even  when  exami- 
ned by  the  microscope.  It  has  been  calculated,  that  sixteen 
ounces  of  gold,  which,  if  in  the  form  of  a  cube,  would  not 
measure  one  inch  and  a  quarter  in  its  side,  will  completely 
gild  a  quantity  of  silver  wire,  sufficient  to  circumscribe 
the  whole  globe  of  the  earth. 

Mobility  means  that  property  by  which  matter  is 
capable  of  being  moved  from  one  part  of  space  to  another. 

Space  is  only  an  abstract  idea;  and  can  be  described 
only  by  its  want  of  properties.  Space  has  no  limits  or 
bounds ;  it  consists  of  parts,  which  may  be  divided  by  the 
mind,  but  are  not  capable  of  actual  separation  from  each 
other,  and  it  cannot  afford  any  resistance  to  bodies  moving 
through  it.  Being  perfectly  uniform  in  all  its  parts,  it  is 
impossible  to  distinguish  them  from  each  other,  but  by 
the  bodies  placed  in  them. 

Extension  has  been  by  some  considered  as  a  distinguish- 
ing property  of  matter  ;  but  as  space  is  also  extended,  this 
cannot  be  reckoned  a  characteristic. 

Besides  these,  matter  possesses  a  property,  which  is 
called  inertia^  or  inactivity  ;  by  which  it  would  always 
continue  in  whatever  state  it  was  put,  whether  of  rest  or 
motion,  unless  prevented  by  some  external  force.  That 
matter  can  begin  to  move  of  itself,  after  being  at  rest,  no 
one  can  suppose ;  but  it  does  not  appear  so  evident  that 
it  has  a  tendency  to  continue  in  motion  for  ever.  Most 
people  are  apt  to  suppose  that  all  matter  has  a  propensit}' 
to  fall  from  a  state  of  motion  into  a  state  of  rest ;  because 
we  see  all  the  motions  upon  the  earth  gradually  decay, 
and  at  last  totally  cease.  But  this  is  owing  to  the 
resistance  of  the  air,  and  to  friction  ;  for  if  these  are 
diminished,  the  body  will  move  longer,  and  if  they  could 
be  removed  altogether,  the  body  would  continue  for  ever 
in  motion. 

If  a  man  be  standing  in  a  boat  while  it  is  pushed  oft 
from  the  shore,  he  will  be  in  danger  of  falling  backwards, 
but  he  will  gradually  acquire  the  motion  of  the  boat ;  and 
if  it  be  suddenly  stopped,  he  will  fall  forwards,  because 


NATURAL  AND  EXPERIMENTAL  PHILOSOPHY,  159 


his  tendency  will  then  be  to  continue  in  the  same  state 
of  motion.  Innumerable  instances  of  the  same  kind,  in 
common  life,  may  be  observed. 

Matter  also  possesses  powers  of  attraction  and  repul- 
sion, which  we  shall  consider. 

Of  Attraction. 

By  attraction  we  mean  the  tendency  that  bodies  have 
to  approach  each  other.  And  first,  in  elucidation  of  this 
subject,  if  you  throw  a  stone,  or  shoot  an  arrow  into  the 
air,  instead  of  proceeding  according  to  the  direction  in 
which  you  send  it,  you  see  its  force  is  quickly  spent,  and 
it  returns  to  the  earth  with  a  velocity  or  swiftness  propor- 
tioned to  its  bulk  or  weight.  Now  it  is  easy  to  conceive, 
that  the  resistance  of  the  air  may  stop  it  in  its  progress  ; 
but  why  should  it  return  ?  Why  should  not  the  resistance 
of  the  air  stop  or  impede  it  in  its  return  ? 

The  answer  you  will  think  very  plain — It  is  its  weight 
that  brings  it  back  to  the  earth,  you  will  say,  and  it  falls 
because  it  is  a  heavy  body.  But  what  is  weight?  Or  why 
is  it  heavy  %  It  is,  in  truth,  the  earth  which  draws  or 
attracts  the  stone  or  the  arrow  towards  it;  this  over- 
comes the  force  with  which  you  sent  it  from  you  at  first, 
and  the  resistance  which  the  air  would  otherwise  make 
to  its  falling. 

To  make  this  plainer,  if  you  drop  a  little  water,  or  any 
other  liquid,  on  a  table,  and  place  upon  the  liquid  a  piece 
of  loaf  sugar,  you  will  see  the  water  or  fluid  ascend,  or  in 
vulgar  language,  be  sucked  up  into  the  pores  of  the  sugar ; 
that  is,  the  one  is  attracted  by  the  other.  Again,  if  you 
take  two  leaden  bullets,  and  pare  a  piece  off  the  side  of 
each,  and  make  the  surface,  where  you  have  taken  off 
the  piece,  exceedingly  smooth,  and  then  press  the  two 
balls  together,  you  will  find  them  adhere  strongly  to- 
gether, that  is,  they  are  mutually  attracted  by  each  other. 

If  you  take  a  piece  of  sealing  wax,  or  amber,  with  a 
smooth  surface,  and  rub  it  pretty  quickly  upon  your 
woollen  stocking  till  it  gets  warm,  you  will  find  that  if 
straws,  feathers,  hairs,  or  any  very  light  bodies,  are 
brought  within  the  distance  of  from  an  inch  to  half  an 
inch  of  it,  these  light  bodies  will  be  drawn  to  the  sealing 


160  YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OP  KNOWLEDGE. 

wax  or  amber,  and  will  adhere  to  it.  Thus,  in  philoso- 
phical language,  they  are  attracted  by  it. 

This  last  effect  is  very  similar  to  what  maybe  observed 
of  the  magnet  or  loadstone,  or  what  is  frequently  per- 
formed by  the  little  artificial  magnets,  which  are  com- 
monly sold,  and  which  afford  a  very  rational  and  pretty 
amusement  to  young  persons. 

But  what  is  a  still  more  surprising  effect  of  attraction, 
if  we  take  two  phial  bottles,  which  we  number  1  and  2, 
fill  each  of  them  with  a  fluid  perfectly  colourless ;  we  see 
they  appear  like  clear  water;  on  mixing  them  together, 
we  will  opserve  the  mixture  become  perfectly  black.  We 
take  another  phial,  No,  3,  which  contains  also  a  colour- 
less fluid,  and  we  pour  it  into  this  black  liquor,  which 
again  becomes,  we  see,  perfectly  clear,  except  a  little 
sediment  which  remains  at  bottom.  Lastly,  we  take  the 
phial.  No.  4,  containing  also  a  liquid  clear  like  water, 
and  by  adding  a  little  of  it,  the  black  colour  we  see  is 
restored. 

All  this  appears  like  magic,  but  it  is  nothing  more 
than  the  effect  of  attraction.  Philosophy  keeps  no  secrets, 
and  we  will  explain  it.  The  colourless  liquor  in  the 
phial,  No.  1,  is  water  in  which  bruised  galls  have  been 
steeped  or  infused ;  that  in  No.  2  is  a  solution  of  copperas, 
(called  by  chemists  sal  martis,  salt  of  steel)  in  plain 
terms,  it  is  water  in  which  common  copperas,  or  green 
vitriol,  is  dissolved.  The  iron  which  this  salt  (green 
vitriol)  contains,  has  a  strong  attraction  for  the  gall 
water;  and  when  they  are  mixed  together  they  unite, 
and  the  mixture  becomes  black;  in  fact,  is  made  into  ink. 
But  when  the  phial,  No.  3,  which  contains  aqua  fortis 
(or  the  nitrous  acid,  as  it  is  called  by  chemists,)  is  poured 
in,  the  iron,  which  has  a  stronger  attraction  for  it  than 
for  the  galls,  unites  with  it,  and  having  left  the  galls,  the 
liquid  is  again  clear.  Again,  the  phial  No.  4,  contains 
salt  of  wormwood  in  a  fluid  state,  which  the  chemists 
call  an  alkali.  The  aqua  fortis  is  nitrous  acid,  therefore 
has  a  stronger  attraction  for  this  alkaline  matter  than  it 
has  for  the  iron  ;  it  therefore  drops  the  iron,  which  again 
unites  with  the  matter  of  the  galls,  and  you  see  the  fluid 
resume  its  black  complexion. 

These  several  kinds  of  attractions,  which  we  have  now 


NATURAL  AND  EXPERIMENTAL  PHILOSOPHY.  161 

mentioned,  philosophers  have  arranged  under  five  distinct 
heads.  The  first,  that  we  mean,  of  the  stone  or  arrow 
falling'  to  the  ground,  they  have  called  the  attraction  oi 
gravity,  or  gravitation.  The  second,  that  of  the  two 
leaden  balls  adhering  together,  and  of  the  water  ascend- 
ing into  the  pores  of  the  sugar,  they  call  the  attraction  of 
cohesion,  and  also  capillary  attraction.  The  third  is 
electrical  attraction,  because  the  sealing-wax,  when 
chafed  or  warmed  by  rubbing  against  your  stocking,  is 
in  an  electrified  or  excited  state,  like  the  glass  cylinder  of 
an  electrical  machine  when  rubbed  against  the  cushion, 
and  therefore  attracts  the  hair,  feathers,  &c.  The  fourth 
is  the  magnetic  attraction;  and  the  fifth  is  called  chemical 
attraction,  or  the  attraction  of  combination,  because  upon 
it  many  of  the  processes  and  experiments  in  chemistry 
depend;  and  because  by  this  means  most  of  the  combina- 
tions which  we  observe  in  salts,  the  ores  of  metals,  and 
other  mineral  bodies  are  effected. 

On  the  two  first  of  these  species  of  attraction  only,  we 
shall  at  present  enlarge,  because  it  will  be  necessary  to 
treat  of  the  others,  when  we  come  to  investigate  those 
branches  of  science  to  which  they  properly  belong. 

First,  therefore,  of  gravitation.  It  requires  no  experi- 
ment to  shew  the  attraction  of  gravity ;  for  since  the 
earth  is  in  the  form  of  a  globe,  it  is  manifest  that  it  must 
be  endued  with  a  power  of  attraction  to  keep  upon  its 
surface,  the  various  bodies  which  exist  there,  without 
their  being  hurled  away  into  the  immensity  of  space  in 
the  course  of  its  rotary  diurnal  (or  daily)  motion.  The 
earth  has  therefore  been  compared  to  a  large  magnet, 
which  attracts  all  smaller  bodies  towards  its  centre.  This 
is  the  true  cause  of  weight  or  gravity  (which  mean  the 
same  thing.)  All  bodies  are  drawn  towards  the  earth  by 
the  force  of  its  attraction  ;  and  this  attraction  is  exerted 
in  proportion  to  the  quantity  of  solid  matter  which  any 
body  contains. — Thus,  when  two  bodies  are  placed  in 
opposite  scales,  and  we  see  one  preponderate,  we  say  it  is 
heavier  than  the  other  ;  in  fact,  that  it  contains  a  greater 
quantity  of  solid  matter.  For  as  every  particle  of  matter 
is  attracted  by  the  earth,  the  greater  number  of  such  par- 
ticles any  body  contains,  the  more  forcibly  it  will  be 
attracted.  We  know,  by  experience,  that  the  weight  or 
14* 


162 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


gravity \  of  a  body  or  thing  is  not  in  proportion  to  its  hall  . 
A  bullet  of  lead,  of  the  same  size  as  one  of  wood,  or  of 
cork,  will  weigh  infinitely  heavier,  and  one  of  gold 
would  be  heavier  still.  It  is  reasonable,  therefore,  to 
suppose  that  the  ball  of  gold,  or  of  lead,  contains  a  greater 
number  of  solid  particles,  which  are  united  or  pressed 
closer  together  than  those  of  the  wood  or  cork,  which  is 
more  porous,  and  its  particles  lie  less  closely  compressed 
or  compacted  together.  This,  then,  is  what  is  meant  by 
specific  gravity,  that  one  body  contains  more  solid  parti- 
cles within  a  certain  compass,  size,  bulk,  or  space,  than 
another. 

It  is  one  of  the  laws  of  nature,  discovered  by  Newton, 
and  now  received  by  all  philosophers,  that  every  particle 
of  matter  gravitates  towards  every  other  particle ;  which 
law  is  the  main  principle  in  the  Newtonian  philosophy. 
The  planets  and  comets  all  gravitate  towards  the  sun, 
and  towards  each  other,  as  well  as  the  sun  towards 
them,  and  that  in  proportion  to  the  quantity  of  matter  in 
each. 

All  terrestrial  bodies  tend  toward  a  point,  which  is 
either  accurately,  or  very  nearly,  the  centre  of  the  earth ; 
consequently,  bodies  fall  every  where  perpendicular  to  its 
surface,  and  therefore  on  opposite  sides  in  opposite  direc- 
tions. As  it  acts  upon  all  bodies  in  proportion  to  their 
quantities  of  matter,  it  is  this  attractive  force  that  consti- 
tutes the  weights  of  bodies. 

The  cause  of  gravity  is  totally  unknown.  Many  theo- 
ries have  been  invented  to  account  for  it,  but  they  have 
been  all  mere  hypotheses  or  conjectures,  without  any  solid 
foundation. 

11.  The  attraction  of  cohesion  is  observable  in  almost 
every  natural  object,  since  in  reality,  it  is  that  which 
holds  their  parts  together.  It  has  been  already  demon- 
strated, in  the  experiment  of  the  two  leaden  balls,  and  the 
same  effect  will  be  proved  by  pressing  together  the  smooth 
surfaces  of  two  pieces  of  looking-glass,  particularly  if  a 
little  moisture  is  dropped  between  them  to  exclude  the  air 
more  perfectly.  The  adhesion  or  tenacity  of  all  bodies 
is  supposed  to  depend  on  the  degree  of  this  attraction 
which  exists  between  their  particles  :  and  the  cohesive 
power  of  several  solid  substances  has  been  ascertained  by 


NATURAL  AND  EXPERIMENTAL  PHILOSOPHY.  163 

a  course  of  experiments,  in  which  it  was  to  put  to  the  test 

what  weight  a  piece  of  each  bocl y  of  one  tenth  of  an  inch 
diameter  would  sustain,  and  the  weights  were  found  to 
he  as  follows : 


Raw  flax    -  - 

-    37  lbs. 

Ash    -  - 

-   50  lbs. 

Horse  hair  -  - 

-  45 

Zinc    -  - 

-  18 

Raw  Hemp  - 

46 

Lead  -  - 

-  29J 

Raw  silk    -  - 

-  53£ 

Tin     -  - 

-  40£ 

Fir  wood    -  - 

-  23 

Copper 

-  299 

Elm     -     -  - 

-  35 

Brass  -  - 

-  360 

Alder        -  - 

-  40 

Silver  -  - 

-  370 

Oak     -     -  • 

-  48 

Iron    -  - 

-  450 

Beech  -    -  - 

-  50 

Gold  -  - 

-  500 

This  cohesion  is  also  visible  even  in  fluid  substances, 
the  particles  of  which  adhere  together,  though  with  a 
less  degree  of  tenacity  than  solid  bodies.  "  The  pearly 
dew"  is  a  well  known  phrase  in  poetical  language,  and 
the  drops  of  rain,  or  of  dew,  upon  the  leaves  of  plants, 
assume  this  round  or  pearly  appearance  by  the  attraction 
which  the  particles  have  Tor  one  another.  In  the  same 
manner  quicksilver,  if  divided  into  the  smallest  grains, 
will  appear  round,  like  small*  shot,  because  the  particles 
attract  each  other  equally  in  every  direction,  and  thus 
each  particle  draws  others  to  it  on  every  side,  as  far  as 
its  power  extends.  For  the  same  reason,  two  small  drops 
of  quicksilver,  when  brought  near  to  each  other,  will 
seem  to  run  together  and  unite. 

Some  bodies,  however,  in  certain  circumstances,  appear 
to  possess  a  power  the  reverse  of  attraction  ;  and  this  is 
called,  in  philosophical  language,  repulsion. 

Of  Magnetism. 

There  is  scarcely  any  instance  in  which  the  principle 
of  attraction  is  displayed  in  a  more  striking  manner  than 
in  that  of  the  magnet  or  loadstone  ;  so  called,  as  is  con- 
jectured from  load,  the  Saxon  word  for  lead,  that  is,  the 
leading-stone,  from  its  proving  a  guide  to  seamen  by 
means  of  the  compass,  or  magnetic  needle,  which  always 
points  out  to  the  north* 


164 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


The  load-stone,  or  natural  magnet,  is  an  ore  of  iron  ; 

that  is,  iron  united  in  a  state  resembling  a  cinder,  or 
calx,  with  some  other  substance.  This  is,  indeed,  the 
state  in  which  most  metals  are  found  in  the  mines,  that 
is,  resembling  a  stone  or  cinder;  and  being  afterwards 
purified  by  the  action  of  fire  in  the  furnace,  the  other 
matter  with  which  the  metal  was  united  is  driven  off,  and 
the  metal  appears  in  its  proper  state,  and  fit  for  mecha- 
nical purposes. 

Load-stones  are  found  more  or  less  in  every  iron  mine. 
They  are  of  a  dull  brownish  black  colour,  and  most  of 
them  are  sufficiently  hard  to  afford  sparks  like  a  flint 
when  struck  with  steel. 

The  great  and  distinguishing  property  of  the  magnet, 
is  its  attraction  for  iron ;  and  this  attraction  is  mutual 
between  them. 

This  property,  which  is  possessed  by  the  natural  load- 
stone, it  will  communicate  to  any  other  piece  of  iron  by 
only  touching  it ;  and  the  piece  of  iron  thus  converted 
into  a  magnet,  will  communicate  it  to  others,  and  these 
again  to  other  iron,  without  losing  any  part  of  their 
magnetic  virtue,  which  seems  rather  increased  than  dimi- 
nished by  action.  Magnets  made  by  being  touched  by 
a  loadstone,  or  by  other  iron  which  has  been  touched  by 
it,  are  called  artificial  magnets,  and  are  commonly  sold 
in  the  shops  of  those  who  deal  in  mathematical  a-nd 
philosophical  instruments.  Soft  iron  acquires  magnetism 
with  more  ease  than  hard  iron  or  steel,  but  the  latter  will 
retain  it  much  longer.  A  well-tempered  bar  of  steel  will 
retain  the  magnetic  virtue  for  many  years  without  di- 
minution. 

Those  magnets  which  communicate  most  freely,  and 
in  the  greatest  degree  the  magnetic  virtue,  are  called 
generous;  those  which  raise  the  greatest  weight,  in  pro- 
portion to  their  size,  are  called  vigorous  magnets. 

The  magnetic  virtue  is  found  to  be  the  most  active  at 
two  opposite  points  of  each  magnet,  which  have  been 
termed  its  poles,  from  their  correspondence  with  the  poles 
of  the  earth,  as  is  found  by  placing  the  magnet  on  a 
small  piece  of  wood  floating  on  water,  or  in  any  situation 
in  which  it  may  turn  freely,  when  the  magnet  will 


NATURAL  AND  EXPERIMENTAL  PHILOSOPHY.  165 


arrange  itself  exactly  in  that  direction,  namely,  from 
north  to  south. 

In  England,  we  call  that  the  south  pole  of  the  magnet 
which  points  towards  the  north,  and  that  is  termed  the 
north  pole  which  is  directed  to  the  south.  The  foreign 
philosophers,  on  the  contrary,  name  them  according  to 
the  pole  to  which  they  point.  That  is,  the  north  pole  of 
the  magnet  is  that  which  is  directed  to  the  north  or 
arctic  region,  and  the  contrary. 

The  principle  of  repulsion  is  also  very  strikingly  ex- 
emplified by  the  magnet;  for  if  the  same  pole  of  two 
magnets  is  presented  one  to  the  other,  that  is,  the  north 
pole  of  one  magnet  to  the  north  pole  of  the  other,  they 
will  mutually  repel  or  drive  away  each  other ;  if,  on  the 
contrary,  the  south  pole  of  the  one  is  presented  to  the 
north  pole  of  the  other,  they  will  be  mutually  attracted. 
It  is  on  this  account  that  it  is  necessary,  in  making 
artificial  magnets,  to  draw  the  magnet,  with  which  they 
are  rubbed  or  touched,  always  one  way.  It  is  most 
effectually  done  also  by  applying  one  of  the  poles  of  the 
magnet  to  the  bar  or  piece  of  iron  which  is  to  be  rendered 
magnetic,  and  drawing  it  slowly  along  several  times. 
What  is  extraordinary,  'the  end  of  the  bar  which  is  first 
touched  with  the  magnet,  will  have  the  contrary  pro- 
perty to  the  end  of  the  magnet  with  which  it  is  touched 
or  rubbed.  If,  for  instance,  the  end  with  which  the  bar 
is  touched,  is  the  north  pole  of  the  magnet,  the  end  of  the 
bar  to  which  it  is  first  applied  will  be  a  south  pole,  and 
the  contrary. 

It  is  evident  that  the  directive  power  of  the  magnet,  or 
that  which  causes  it  when  placed  so  that  it  can  freely 
turn  of  itself,  to  take  always  a  position  north  and  south, 
is  the  most  useful  property  of  the  magnet.  The  mariner's 
compass  is  a  fine  needle,  index,  or  piece  of  steel  wire, 
formed  like  the  index,  or  hand  of  a  clock  or  watch,  und 
made  so  as  turn  with  great  ease  on  the  prop  which  sup- 
ports it-  The  needle,  or  index,  is  fixed  in  a  box,  and 
underneath  it  the  points  of  the  compass,  or  the  different 
quarters  of  the  horizon,  that  is,  east,  west,  north,  and 
south,  are  marked  on  a  card.  As  the  magnetic  needle 
always  points  towards  the  north,  by  observing  the  course 
or  direction  of  the  ship,  that  is,  which  way  her  head  is 


166 


fOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


turned,  it  is  easy  to  know  to  what  point  she  steers ;  and  by 
keeping"  a  regular  account  of  the  distance  she  traverses, 
the  seaman  can  go  with  exactness  from  one  place  to 
another.  Before  this  great  and  important  invention, 
seamen  usually  steered  by  observing  the  fixed  stars,  and 
particularly  the  polar  or  the  north  star. 

Though  the  position  of  the  magnetic  needle  is  generally 
north  and  south,  yet  it  is  found  sometimes  to  vary  a  few 
points  of  degrees  from  this  position  ;  and  it  not  only  varies 
at  different  places,  but  even  at  different  times  at  the  same 
place.  This  is  called  the  variation  or  declination  of  the 
compass. 

Magnets,  while  they  attract  other  bodies,  appear  to  be 
themselves  subject  to  the  attraction  of  the  earth,  for  the 
magnetic  needle,  when  it  is  placed  where  it  can  act  freely, 
generally  assumes  a  position  with  one  of  ite  poles  a  little 
elevated  and  the  other  depressed.  This,  however,  varies 
in  different  latitudes  :  near  the  equator  it  is  in  a  position 
almost  strait  or  horizontal ;  as  it  approaches  the  northern 
regions,  the  south  pole  is  depressed,  or  drawn  towards  the 
earth  ;  and,  on  the  other  side,  the  equator,  in  the  southern 
latitudes,  the  north  pole  is  depressed.  This  is  called  thf» 
dip  of  the  needle. 

On  Fire  and  its  Properties. 

The  objects  of  natural  philosophy  may  be  divided  into 
fluid  and  solid  bodies,  terms  which  to  attempt  to  define, 
would  only  serve  to  perplex,  because  they  are  in  a  great 
measure  objects  of  our  senses. 

It  is  probable,  as  will  hereafter  appear,  that  there  is 
but  one  fluid  in  nature,  and  that  other  bodies  are  rendered 
fluid  only  from  the  particles  of  that  active  and  subtle 
fluid  being  insinuated  between  the  particles  of  those 
bodies  which  appear  in  that  state.  This  fluid  is  fire,  the 
caloric  of  the  French  philosophers,  or  heat,  as  it  has  been 
termed  by  some  writers,  though  the  word  heat  seems  better 
adapted  to  express  one  of  its  qualities  than  its  nature  or 
essence.  That  light  and  the  electric  fluid  are  only  forms 
or  modifications  of  fire,  is  highly  probable  :  but  this  is  a 
subject  on  which  it  is  not  necessary  to  enter  here. 

The  most  remarkable  properties  of  fire,  are  the  minute- 


NATURAL  AND  EXPERIMENTAL  £tfIL0S0PH*.  16t 

ness  of  its  particles,  or  its  subtility,  and  its  wonderful 
elasticity,  which  last  property  renders  it  an  exception  to 
all  other  matters  on  this  earth,  in  not  being  subject  to  the 
laws  of  gravitation,  at  least  as  far  as  we  are  able  to  judge, 
or,  in  other  words,  being  without  weight.  Very  many 
of  the  effects  of  fire  will  be  found  to  depend  on  its  elas* 
ticity. 

When  we  speak  of  elementary  fire,  it  does  not  follow 
that  the  body  in  which  it  is  present  should  necessarily 
appear  in  an  inflamed  or  burning  state  ;  this  depends  oit 
the  quantity,  in  the  first  place,  and,  in  the  second,  on 
the  fire  being  in  an  active  state.  For  instance,  when  we 
feel  warmed  and  refreshed  by  a  fire,  our  bodies  imbibe  a 
certain  quantity  of  its  particles,  but  not  sufficient  to  con* 
sume  or  injure  them.  Nay,  it  is  known  to  a  certainty,  that 
every  part  of  nature,  even  the  coldest  bodies  to  our  touch, 
have  a  certain  portion  of  elementary  fire  within  them.  It 
constitutes  a  considerable  part  of  the  air  we  breathe,  and* 
indeed,  it  is  probable,  that  part  of  it  is  most  necessary  to 
sustain  life. 

Fire  is  found  to  exist  either  in  a  latent,  combined,  ot 
inactive  state ;  or  also  in  its  active  disengaged  state,  when 
it  exhibits  the  usual  phenomena  of  flame  and  culinary 
fire. 

As  elementary  fire  is  a  fluid  extremely  subtle,  it  pene- 
trates almost  all  bodies,  and  is  imbibed  more  or  less  by 
all ;  but  some  bodies  have  a  much  stronger  attraction  for 
it  than  others.  Thus,  though  all  fluidity  is  the  effect  of 
fire,  some  bodies  will  not  melt  or  become  fluid  without  a 
considerable  accession  of  heat,  while  some  have  so  strong 
an  attraction  for  it,  that  they  will  continue  fluid  in  the 
ordinary  heat  of  our  atmosphere.  Thus  most  metals  re* 
main  solid,  unless  exposed  to  the  heat  of  a  furnace,  while 
mercury  or  quicksilver  is  fluid  in  a  very  low  temperature. 
Thus  wax  or  tallow  requires  the  application  of  consider- 
able heat  to  melt  or  render  them  fluid,  while  water  conti- 
nues in  its  fluid  state  till  the  thermometer  is  reduced  to  32 
degrees,  a  degree  of  cold  which  is  extremely  uneasy  to 
our  feelings. 

The  effects  which  are  wrought  upon  different  bodies 
by  the  presence  of  fire,  are,  1st,  expansion ;  2d,  fluidity; 
3d,  boiling  or  evaporation;  4th,  combustion* 


168        young  man's  book  of  knowledge. 


1st,  Expansion.  Nothing  is  more  obvious  than  that 
the  admission  of  the  matter  of  fire  within  the  pores,  or 
between  the  particles  of  any  bodies,  causes  an  immediate 
expansion  or  swelling  out  of  the  whole  mass.  An  iron 
bolt  that  would  easily  pass  through  a  ring  in  a  cold  state, 
will  stick  fast  in  it  when  heated  a  little  in  the  fire.  But 
this  expansion  is  seen  more  powerfully  to  affect  fluid  than 
solid  bodies,  because  there  is  less  adhesion  between  their 
particles.  Thus,  if  a  bulb  of  glass,  with  a  tube  annexed 
to  it,  is  half  filled  with  spirits  of  wine  tinged  with  any 
colouring  matter,  and  grasped  with  a  warm  hand,  the 
little  quantity  of  air  contained  in  the  bulb  will  be  expan- 
ded, and  force  the  liquor  to  the  other  end,  where  it  will 
exhibit  all  the  phenomena  of  boiling.  Though  quick- 
silver is  a  metal,  yet  it  has  so  strong  an  attraction  for  the 
matter  of  fire,  that  it  continues  in  a  fluid  state  in  the  or- 
dinary heat  of  our  atmosphere.  It  is  therefore  very  easily 
expanded  by  heat  of  fire ;  and  upon  this  principle  the  well 
known  instrument,  called  the  thermometer,  or  measure 
of  heat,  is  constructed.  It  consists  of  a  bulb,  which  is 
filled  with  quicksilver,  and  a  tube,  from  which  the  air 
has  been  excluded,  and  which  is  closed  at  the  top.  The 
mercury,  therefore,  in  the  bulb  is  expanded  by  every  in- 
crease of  heat,  and  consequently  rises  in  the  tube,  and, 
when  the  heat  is  withdrawn,  it  sinks  proportionably. 

From  what  has  been  said,  it  will  be  obvious,  that  cold 
means  nothing  but  the  absence  of  heat :  for,  whenever 
that  is  withdrawn,  we  become  sensible  of  cold,  which 
therefore  denotes  a  sensation  of  feeling,  and  not  a  thing. 
To  graduate,  as  it  is  called,  or  mark  a  thermometer,  it  is 
plunged  into  what  is  called  the- freezing  mixture,  that  is. 
salt  and  snow,  when  the  mercury  sinks,  being  deprived 
of  its  heat :  and  afterwards  into  boiling  water,  when  the 
mercury  rises  considerably  in  the  tube.  The  space  be- 
tween these  two  points  is  divided  into  two  hundred  and 
twelve  equal  parts,  which  are  accordingly  marked  on  the 
stem  of  the  thermometer,  or  the  board  to  which  it  is  af- 
fixed. 

When  bodies  assume  the  fluid  state,  a  large  portion  of 
elementary  fire  is  absorbed,  and,  in  the  language  of  Dr. 
Black,  remains  latent,  that  is,  not  sensible  to  our  touch,  at 
least  with  respect  to  such  substances  as  can  be  dissolved 


NATURAL  AND  EXPERIMENTAL  PHILOSOPHY.  169 

or  rendered  fluid  with  the  common  heat  of  our  climate.—- 
Thus,  to  melt  a  pound  of  ice,  it  will  be  found  that  a  large 
portion  of  heat  or  fire  must  be  consumed  or  absorbed,  and 
yet  the  heat  in  the  water  so  produced  shall  nol  be  percep- 
tible to  our  touch. 

When  bodies  pass  from  a  solid  to  a  fluid  state,  the  ab- 
sorption of  heat  by  that  body  produces  a  degree  of  sensible 
cold.  Thus,  if  any  solid  body  can  be  made  suddenly  to 
melt  or  dissolve  in  the  common  heat  of  our  atmosphere, 
a  very  considerable  degree  of  sensible  cold  will  be  pro- 
duced. 

When  bodies,  on  the  contrary,  pass  from  a  fluid  to  a 
solid  state,  sensible  heat  is  generated  by  the  elementary 
fire,  which  is  let  loose  or  emitted.  The  heat  produced  by 
throwing  water  upon  quicklime,  which  is  the  process  the 
working  men  call  slacking  lime,  must  have  been  observed 
by  most  people.  In  this  case  the  component  parts  of  the 
water  are  absorbed  into  the  solid  mass  of  the  lime,  and 
the  fire  which  held  it  in  a  fluid  state  is  let  loose. 

As  by  the  application  of  heat  or  fire  solid  bodies  are  ex- 
panded, so  by  a  continuation  and  increase  of  it  their  par- 
ticles are  dissolved  and  become  fluid  ;  and  if  the  heat 
continues  to  be  accumulated,  what  was  before  a  common 
or  incompressible  fluid,  will  be  turned  into  an  elastic  fluid. 
In  common  language,  it  will  boil,  and,  in  process  of  time, 
go  off  entirely  in  vapour. 

Boiling  is  evidently  no  other  than  a  fluid  being  conver- 
ted into  vapour,  and  the  point  at  which  water  begins  to 
boil  is  fixed,  on  Fahrenheit's  scale,  at  two  hundred  and 
twelve  degrees.  In  this  case,  as  well  as  in  the  former, 
there  must  be  a  considerable  absorption  or  accumulation 
of  the  matter  of  fire  before  the  effect  can  be  wrought ; 
and  the  water  or  fluid  boils  or  bubbles  up,  because  that 
part  of  the  vessel  which  is  nearest  the  fire  will  be  most 
heated,  and  therefore  the  evaporation  commonly  com- 
mences at  the  bottom. 

If  the  heat  is  continued  after  the  fluid  arrives  at  the 
boiling  point,  the  whole  of  the  fluid  will  fly  off  in  vapour 
or  steam,  which,  in  common  language,  is  called  boiling 
away.  Vapour  is  one  thousand  eight  hundred  times 
lighter  than  water,  that  is,  a  given  portion  of  water  will, 
in  an  elastic  form,  occupy  eighteen  hundred  times  the  space 
15 


IfO  YOUftG  MA5ffS  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


it  did  before.  Vapour,  as  well  as  air,  is  called  an  elastic 
fluid,  because  it  may  be  compressed  like  wool  or  feathers, 
and,  when  the  pressure  is  removed,  will  recover  its  former 
dimensions.  Yet  it  is  only  to  a  certain  extent  that 
vapour  can  be  compressed,  for  its  force  is  immense,  as  we 
may  see  by  the  amazing  power  which  is  exerted  by  the 
steam  engine  in  working  pumps  and  other  machinery ; 
and  the  bursting  of  one  of  those  engines  is  attended  with 
a  report  much  greater  than  that  of  the  heaviest  cannon  ; 
in  fact,  the  force  of  vapour  is  greatly  superior  to  that  of 
gunpowder.  One  hundred  and  forty  pounds  of  gun* 
powder  blew  up  a  weight  of  thirty  thousand  pounds,  but 
the  same  weight  of  water,  converted  into  steam,  or  va- 
pour, lifted  a  weight  of  upwards  of  seventy  thousand 
pounds.  All  smoke  is  vapour,  and  the  smoke  from  our 
Common  coal  fires  proceeds  from  the  water  which  is 
formed  in  the  process  of  burning,  and  which  is  converted 
into  vapour*  It  is,  however,  commonly  mixed  with  some 
oily,  bituminous,  saline,  or  sulphureous  matter  from  the 
coal,  as  is  evident  from  the  soot  which  adheres  to  the 
sides  of  the  chimney. 

Fluids  will  boil,  or  in  other  words,  be  converted  into 
vapour  with  a  less  degree  of  heat  than  they  do,  if  it  was 
not  for  the  pressure  of  the  atmosphere.  Water  which 
boils  at  two  hundred  and  twelve  degrees  in  the  open  air, 
will,  in  the  most  perfect  vacuum  we  can  make,  boil  at 
ninety  degrees,  that  is,  it  will  boil  in  vacuo  at  one  hun- 
dred and  twenty- two  degrees  below  its  ordinary  boiling 
or  vaporific  point. 

4thly.  Combustion  implies  the  emission  of  fire  from 
some  body  in  which  it  existed  in  a  latent  state,  and  the 
destruction,  or  rather  the  change  of  some  other  body. 
Fire  is  contained  in  the  largest  quantity  in  air,  and  the 
pure  part  of  it,  that  is,  the  oxygen,  being  disposed  to 
unite  with  many  other  matters,  most  of  the  ordinary 
processes  of  combustion  and  inflammation  are  the  result 
of  the  sudden  union  of  oxygen  with  some  other  sub- 
stance, in  which  case  the  fire  which  was  contained  in 
the  oxygen  air  is  disengaged  and  let  loose,  This  fact  is 
very  clearly  evinced  in  the  combustion  of  phosphorus, 
which  inflames  in  the  common  temperature  of  the  atmo- 
sphere.   Phosphorus,  in  fact,  has  a  greater  attraction 


NATURAL  AND  EXPERIMENTAL  PHILOSOPHY.  1?1 


for  oxygen  than  almost  any  other  substance ;  when, 
therefore,  any  portion  of  it  is  exposed  to  the  air,  in  a  cer- 
tain degree  of  heat,  that  is,  the  oxygen,  is  attracted  by  it 
and  condensed,  the  phosphorus  is  then  changed  into 
phosphoric  acid,  and  the  fire,  which  kept  the  oxygen  in 
an  aerial  form,  is  detached,  and  flame  is  produced.  With 
respect  to  other  inflammable  matters  (coal,  for  instance) 
either  they  have  a  weaker  attraction  for  oxygen  than 
phosphorus,  or  their  particles  have  a  stronger  attraction 
for  each  other ;  it  is  therefore  necessary  that  a  degree  of 
internal  agitation  should  previously  be  excited  in  them, 
or  even  a  third  substance  introduced.  Thus,  in  the 
ordinary  process  of  exciting  culinary  fire,  when  a  quan- 
tity of  inflammable  matter  is  heaped  together,  and  fire 
introduced  among  it,  by  the  action  of  the  fire,  a  part  of 
it  is  first  expanded  from  its  solid  state  into  the  state  of 
inflammable  vapour,  it  comes  then  necessarily  into  con- 
tact with  the  pure  air  of  the  atmosphere,  and  the  action 
of  the  fire  still  continuing^  the  fire  which  the  pure  part 
of  the  air  contained  is  attracted  from  it,  and  the  oxygen 
unites  with  the  inflammable  matter,  and  both  are  com- 
bined into  water  in  the  form  of  vapour  or  smoke. 

Hence  there  can  be  no  combustion  without  a  supply  of 
pure  air;  and  therefore  the  common  bellows,  by  bringing 
an  accession  of  air,  causes  a  fire  to  burn  better.  Flame 
is  ignited  vapour,  and  that  part  only  which  comes  in 
contact  with  the  air  is  inflamed  ;  the  flame  of  a  candle 
or  lamp  may  therefore  be  considered  as  a  tube  or  cone  of 
fire,  the  hollow  part  of  which  within  is  filled  with  the 
vapour  which  is  not  inflamed.  It  assumes  the  form  of  a 
cone,  because  the  vapour  being  gradually  consumed  as  it 
rises,  the  quantity  is  lessened  in  its  dimensions.  Flame, 
which  is  ignited  vapour,  always  ascends,  because  vapour 
or  smoke  is  lighter  than  air,  and  it  is  a  well-known  prin- 
ciple, that  by  the  laws  of  gravitation,  the  heaviest  body 
will  be  always  nearest  the  earth,  and  consequently  the 
lighter  at  top. 

Of  the  Laws  of  Motion* 

Every  thing  in  mechanics  depends  upon  very  simple 
principles,  and  maybe  resolved  ultimately  into  the  power 
m  gravity  and  the  laws  of  motion. 


172 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


In  treating  of  gravitation,  in  a  preceding  part,  it  was 
shewn  to  be  that  kind  of  attraction  which  subsists  between 
the  mass  of  the  earth,  and  all  those  bodies  which  are  on 
its  surface.  It  is  that  which,  in  the  stated  revolutions  of 
this  planet,  prevents  us,  and  all  the  bodies  which  surround 
us,  from  falling  into  infinite  space ;  and  which  draws  so 
forcibly  every  thing  whatever  towards  the  centre  of  tho 
earth. 

That  this  attraction  is  greater  or  less  at  different  dis- 
tances is  generally  allowed  :  a  body  which  at  one  semi- 
diameter  of  the  earth  weighs  a  pound,  will  have  four  times 
less  weight  at  two  semidiameters,  and  nine  times  less  at 
three.  At  small  distances,  however,  we  are  not  sensible 
of  this  difference  in  weight,  for  though  we  could  not  be 
elevated  a  mile  above  the  earth's  surface,  when  we  con- 
sider its  diameter  is  eight  thousand  miles,  we  shall  easily 
see  that  the  small  difference  which  this  would  produce  is 
scarcely  to  be  estimated. 

Falling  bodies,  however,  we  know,  acquire  an  accele- 
rated or  increased  force,  according  to  the  height  from 
which  they  fall :  bat  this,  must  be  accounted  for  from 
different  principles.  Every  man  is  sensible,  that  the  fall 
of  a  stone  is  to  be  dreaded  in  proportion  to  the  height  from 
which  it  descends.  If  it  falls  from  only  a  foot  above  his 
head,  it  is  not  so  likely  to  be  so  fatal  as  if  it  fell  from  the 
parapet  of  a  high  house.  The  falling  bodj^,  therefore, 
must  of  necessity  acquire  an  increase  of  velocity  in  its 
descent ;  and  in  fact,  it  is  said  that  a  leaden  bullet  let  fall 
from  one  of  the  steeples  of  Westminster  Abbey,  acquired 
velocity  sufficient  to  pierce  through  a  deal  board. 

This  effect  must  therefore  be  referred  to  the  first  law  of 
motion,  as  laid  down  by  Sir  Isaac  Newton,  which  is,  that 
"  all  bodies  are  indifferent  to  motion  and  rest  :  in  other 
words,  a  body  at  rest  will  continue  in  that  state,  unless 
put  in  motion  by  some  external  impulse;  and  a  body  in 
motion  will  continue  that  motion  for  ever,  unless  stopped 
by  some  external  obstruction."  This  property  of  matter 
has  for  many  years  attracted  the  attention  of  the  most 
acute  mathematicians.  No  one,  however,  has  explained 
it  so  clearly  as  Newton,  who  indeed  shed  a  "  new  light" 
upon  every  thing  which  underwent  the  scrutiny  and 
piercing  research  of  his  gigantic  and  enterprising  mind.  It 


NATURAL  AND  EXPERIMENTAL  PHILOSOPHY".  173 


is  termed,  in  the  technical  language  of  philosophy,  its  vis 
inertiae. 

To  apply  this  to  the  case  immediately  in  point,  it  is 
evident  that  the  bullet  which  is  dropped  from  the  steeple 
of  Westminster  Abbey,  having,  by  the  power  of  gravity, 
once  acquired  a  certain  degree  of  motion,  would  continue 
to  fall  by  the  motion  it  had  received  by  the  first  impulse, 
even  if  the  cause  was  to  cease.  For  instance,  if  when  it 
had  fallen  half  way,  it  was  impossible  to  deprive  it  of 
gravity,  it  would  still,  by  the  above  law,  continue  its  mo- 
tion, and  in  the  direction  in  which  it  was  sent,  as  a  stone 
continues  to  go  on,  when  thrown  by  the  hand,  without 
any  new  impulse. — The  power  of  gravity  however,  does 
not  cease,  and  therefore  every  inch  the  bullet  falls  it  re- 
ceives an  increase  of  motion.  Thus,  if  in  the  space  of 
one  second  it  falls  one  pole  (sixteen  feet  and  a  half),  it 
will  then  have  acquired  as  much  swiftness  or  velocity  as 
will  carry  it  through  three  poles  in  the  next  second, 
through  five  in  the  third,  through  seven  in  the  fourth, 
and  nine  in  the  fifth.  This  will  account  for  its  accele- 
rated motion,  and  for  the  increased  force  with  which  it 
falls  near  the  bottom.  Thus  the  time  which  bodies  take 
in  falling  is  easy  calculated,  for  if  they  fall  about  one 
pole  in  the  first  second,  which  is  what  they  nearly  do  by 
the  force  of  gravity,  they  will  then  fall  three  in  the  next, 
and  in  five  seconds  they  wrill  fall  about  twenty-five  poles, 
or  three  hundred  feet.  If  there  was  no  resistance  from 
the  air,  the  velocity  of  falling  bodies  would  be  still  greater, 
and  as  water  is  a  medium  more  dense  than  air,  the 
resistance  must  be  greater,  and  the  motion  of  a  body 
falling  in  water  proportionably  slower. 

The  same  principle  holds  with  respect  to  projected 
bodies.  il  It  seems  a  bold  assertion,"  says  Mr.  Walker, 
41  to  say  that  a  cannon,  discharged  horizontally  on  the 
top  of  a  tall  tower,  shall  throw  a  ball  two  miles  distant ; 
and  that  it  shall  strike  a  level  plain,  or  the  ground,  at  the 
same  instant  that  another  ball,  let  fall  from  the  muzzle  of 
the  gun,  (the  moment  of  its  discharge)  shall  strike  it ! 
But  there  is  no  doubt  of  the  fact;  for  though  the  pro- 
jected ball  may  move  point  blank  (and  bid  defiance  to  the 
power  of  gravity  half  its  way),  it  will  perform  that  half 
in  so  short  a  space  of  time,  that  it  will  fall  a  rod  in  the 
15* 


174 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


first  second,  three  rods  in  the  second,  &c.  like  all  other 
falling  bodies  ;  for  an  horizontal  impulse  retards  not  the 
power  of  gravity,  in  respect  of  time.'; 

As  heavy  bodies  are  uniformly  accelerated  in  their  de- 
scent, they  are  as  uniformly  retarded  by  the  power  of 
gravity  in  their  ascent.  Thus,  if  we  were  to  throw  the 
bullet  up  to  the  steeple  of  Westminster  Abbey,  we  must 
give  it  just  as  much  force  as  it  acquired  in  its  descent. 

It  is  from  the  sluggishness  of  matter,  which  is  called 
the  vis  inertia  of  bodies,  that  there  proceeds  a  something 
like  an  endeavour  in  all  bodies  to  preserve  that  state  in 
which  they  are ;  when  at  rest  to  continue  in  a  state  of  rest, 
and  when  in  motion  to  continue  in  motion.  This  position 
may  seem  abstruse,  but  it  will  admit  of  illustration  by  the 
most  common  facts.  If  we  push  a  bowl  of  water  with 
the  hand,  the  water  flies  over  the  edge  upon  the  hand,  for 
it  endeavours  to  continue  in  the  state  of  rest  in  which  it 
was.  But  if  we  take  the  bowl  in  our  hand,  and  run  away 
with  it,  and  suddenly  stop  short,  the  water  flies  forward 
the  way  we  were  running,  from  its  vis  inertise,  or  tendency 
to  continue  in  the  same  state  of  motion.  In  the  same 
manner,  if  sitting  in  the  front  of  a  carriage,  which,  after 
going  very  fast,  stops  suddenly,  we  are  jolted  from  our 
seat,  our  heads  will  drive  through  the  front  glass  of  the 
carriage. 

It  is  a  plain  and  obvious  principle,  that  the  greater  the 
quantity  of  matter  is  which  anybody  contains,  the  great- 
er will  be  its  vis  inertia.  The  heavier  any  body  is,  the 
greater  the  power  which  is  required,  either  to  set  it  in 
motion,  or  to  stop  it.  On  the  other  hand,  the  swifter  any 
body  moves,  the  greater  is  its  force,  as  was  sufficiently 
exemplified  in  the  case  of  a  bullet,  which  was  supposed 
to  fail  from  the  steeple  of  Westminster  Abbey.  Upon 
this  easy  principle  depends  the  whole  of  mechanics. 

The  second  law  of  motion  laid  down  by  Sir  Isaac 
Newton  is — u  that  the  alteration  of  the  state  of  any  body 
from  rest  to  motion,  or  from  one  motion  to  another,  is 
always  in  proportion  to  the  force  which  impressed,  and 
in  the  direction  of  that  force." 

All  motion  is  rectilinear.  A  bullet  projected  by  the 
hand,  or  shot  from  a  cannon,  would  for  ever  continue  to 
move  in  the  same  direction  it  received  at  first,  if  no  othejr 


NATURAL  AND  EXPERIMENTAL  PHILOSOPHY,  175 

power  diverted  its  course.  Therefore,  when  we  see  a 
body  move  in  a  carve  of  any  kind  whatever,  we  conclude 
it  must  be  acted  upon  by  two  powers  at  least ;  one  putting 
it  in  motion,  and  another  drawing  it  off  from  the  rectili- 
near course  it  would  otherwise  have  continued  to  move 
in:  and  whenever  that  power,  which  bent  the  motion  of 
the  body  from  a  straight  line  into  a  curve,  ceases  to  act, 
the  body  will  again  move  on  in  a  straight  line,  touching 
that  point  of  the  curve  in  which  it  was  when  the  action 
of  that  power  ceased.  For  example,  a  pebble  moved 
round  in  a  sling  ever  so  long  a  time,  will  fly  of?  the  mo- 
ment it  is  set  at  liberty,  by  slipping  one  end  Gf  the  sling 
cord :  and  will  go  on  in  a  line  touching  the  circle  it  de- 
scribed before;  which  line  would  actually  be  a  straight 
one,  if  the  earth's  attraction  did  not  affect  the  pebble,  and 
bring  it  down  to  the  ground.  This  shows  that  the  natu- 
ral tendency  of  the  pebble,  when  put  into  motion,  is  to 
continue  moving  in  a  straight  line,  although  by  the  force 
that  moves  the  sling  it  is  made  to  revolve  in  a  circle. 

From  this  maxim  it  will  evidently  appear,  that  when 
two  forces  act  at  once  upon  the  same  body  in  different 
directions,  it  will  go  in  neither,  but  in  a  course  between 
both. 

If  both  forces  act  upon  the  body  in  such  a  manner,  as 
to  move  it  uniformly,  the  diagonal  described  will  be  a 
straight  line,  but  if  one  of  the  forces  acts  in  such  a  man- 
ner as  to  make  the  body  move  faster  and  faster,  then  the 
line  described  will  be  a  curve.  And  this  is  the  case  of  all 
bodies  which  are  projected  in  rectilinear  directions,  and 
at  the  same  time  acted  upon  by  the  power  of  gravity, 
which  has  a  constant  tendency  to  accelerate  their  motions 
in  the  direction  wherein  it  acts. 

This  last  is  an  observation  of  great  importance,  as  it  is 
the  foundation  of  the  beautiful  system  of  Newton  concern- 
ing the  planetary  motions.  The  force  which  impels 
these  bodies  forward  in  a  rectilinear  direction,  is  called 
the  centrifugal  force,  as  driving  them  from  the  centre ; 
and  the  force  which  draws  them  towards  the  centre,  or 
the  power  of  gravity,  is  called  the  centripetal  force. 

The  third  law  is,  that  "  re-action  is  always  equal  to 
action."  In  other  words,  the  resistance  of  a  bodj7  at  rest, 
which  is  acted  or  pressed  upon,  acts  against  a  moviag 


176        young  man's  book  of  knowledge. 

body  with  a  certain  degree  of  power,  and  produces  the 
same  effects  as  an  active  force  would  have  done  in  the 
same  direction.  Thus,  if  we  strike  an  anvil  with  a  ham- 
mer, the  anvil  strikes  the  hammer  with  the  same  force 
with  which  it  is  struck  itself.  Hence  a  common  trick  in 
the  country,  of  a  man  lying  on  the  ground  with  a  large 
anvil  on  his  breast,  and  suffering  a  strong  man  to  strike  it 
with  a  sledge  hammer  with  all  his  might.  If  the  anvil 
is  very  large,  its  vis  inertia  resists  the  force  of  the  blow, 
and  the  man  is  perfectly  safe.  If  the  anvil  was  very 
small,  only  the  weight  of  a  pound  or  two,  the  first  stroke 
would  kill  the  man. 

Hence  it  is  evident,  that  when  a  load  is  drawn  by  a 
horse,  the  load  acts  against  the  motion  of  the  horse,  and 
the  action  of  the  animal  is  as  much  impeded  by  the  load, 
as  the  motion  of  the  load  is  prompted  by  his  efforts. 

Before  we  proceed  to  the  consideration  of  the  six  me- 
chanic powers,  it  is  necessary  to  say  a  few  words  on  what 
is  called  the  centre  of  gravity. 

The  centre  of  gravity  is  that  point  of  a  body  in  which 
the  whole  force  of  its  gravity  or  weight  is  united.  What- 
ever, therefore,  supports  that  point,  bears,  in  fact,  the 
weight  of  the  whole  body;  and  while  it  is  supported  it 
cannot  fall,  because  all  its  parts  are  in  perfect  equilibrium 
about  that  point.  Thus,  if  we  endeavour  to  balance  a 
cane,  by  laying  it  across  upon  our  finger,  after  some  time 
we  find  a  place  where  neither  end  will  preponderate. 
The  part,  then,  which  rests  upon  our  finger  is  the  centre 
of  gravity.  An  imaginary  line  drawn  from  the  centre  of 
gravity  of  any  body  towards  the  centre  of  the  earth,  is 
called  the  line  of  direction,  and  it  is  in  this  line  all  heavy 
bodies  will  descend. 

The  difficulty  of  sustaining  a  tall  body  upon  a  narrow 
foundation  will  be  evident,  if  we  attempt  to  balance  a 
cane  with  its  small  end  upon  our  finger.  Its  centre  of 
gravity  is  somewhere  about  the  middle  of  the  cane,  and 
unless  we  have  sufficient  dexterity  to  keep  the  founda- 
tion on  our  finger  perpendicular  under  the  centre  of  gra- 
vity, it  will  undoubtedly  fall.  In  this  consists  the  great 
difficulty  of  posture-masters  and  rope-dancers.  The 
dancer  on  the  rope  balances  himself  with  a  long  pole 
loaded  with  lead,  and  keeps  his  eye  steadily  on  some 


NATURAL  AND  EXPERIMENTAL  PHILOSOPHY.  177 

points  exactly  parallel  to  the  rope,  by  which  he  can  see 
whether  his  centre  of  gravity  is  either  on  one  side  or  the 
other  of  his  slippery  foundation,  and  if  any  irregularity 
takes  place,  he  rectifies  it  by  his  balancing  pole. 

All  bodies  stand  firm  on  their  bases,  when  the  line  of 
direction  falls  within  the  base ;  for  in  this  case  the  body 
cannot  be  made  to  fall,  without  first  raising  the  centre  of 
gravity  higher  than  it  was  before. 

The  nearer  the  centre  of  gravity,  and  the  line  of  direc- 
tion coincide,  the  firmer  any  body  stands  upon  a  horizon- 
tal plane.  If  the  plane  is  inclined,  a  body  will  slide  down 
it,  if  the  direction  line  falls  within  the  base. 

The  broader  the  base,  the  firmer  any  body  stands ;  thus 
we  find  we  stand  firmer  with  our  feet  a  little  asunder, 
than  when  close  together  ;  and,  in  the  former  case,  it  will 
require  a  much  greater  force  to  push  us  down.  Whenever 
the  line  of  direction,  however,  falls  without  the  base  of 
our  feet,  we  necessarily  fall ;  "  and  it  is  not  only  pleas- 
ing," adds  Mr.  Ferguson,  "but  even  surprising,  to  reflect 
upon  the  various  and  unthought  of  methods  and  postures 
which  we  use  to  retain  this  position,  or  to  recover  it  when 
it  is  lost.  For  this  purpose  we  bend  our  body  forward 
when  we  rise  from  a  chair,  or  when  we  go  up  stairs ;  and 
for  this  purpose  a  man  leans  forward  when  he  carries  a 
burden  on  his  back,  and  backward  when  he  carries  it  on 
his  breast ;  and  to  the  right  or  left  side  as  he  carries  it  on 
the  opposite  side.  A  thousand  more  instances  might  be 
added. 

Of  the  Mechanic  Powers, 

Man,  considered  as  to  his  bodily  structure,  is  but  a 
feeble  creature;  it  is  mind  which  gives  him  a  superiority 
over  other  animals.  Contrivances  to  assist  his  natural 
powers,  we  have  reason  to  believe,  took  place  at  a  very 
early  period  of  society,  as  we  find  few  nations,  even  in  , 
the  most  savage  state,  which  are  entirely  without  them. 
It  is  philosophy,  however,  which  explains  their  theory 
and  uses,  and  which  extends  their  application. 

When  we  survey  the  vast  variety  of  complex  machines, 
which  one  of  our  great  manufactories,  for  instance,  exhi- 
bits, we  are  struck  with  astonishment,  and  the  creative 


178 


foung  man's  book  of  knowledge. 


genius  of  man  appears  to  the  greatest  advantage  ;  but  the 
surprise  of  the  unscientific  person  will  be  increased  when 
he  learns  that  this  vast  assemblage  of  mechanism  is  re- 
duced into  six  simple  machines  or  powers,  from  which, 
and  their  different  combinations,  the  most  stupendous 
works  of  human  art  are  produced.  These  machines  are, 
1.  the  lever;  2.  the  wheel  and  axle;  3.  the  pulley;  4. 
the  inclined  plane ;  5.  the  wedge  ;  and  6.  the  screw. 

1.  The  lever  is,  perhaps,  the  simplest  of  all  the  me- 
chanic powers,  and  was  probably  the  first  which  was 
brought  into  use.  It  is  a  bar  of  iron  or  wood,  one  part 
of  which  is  supported  by  a  prop,  and  upon  that  prop  all 
the  other  parts  turn  as  on  their  centre  of  motion.  You 
see  the  lever  made  use  of  in  one  form  or  other  every  day  ; 
when  a  labourer  takes  a  handspike,  or  large  stake,  and 
putting  a  stone  under  some  part  near  the  end,  by  putting 
the  extremity  under  a  cask,  a  piece  of  timber,  or  any  other 
body,  and  attempts  to  move  it,  by  pulling  at  the  other 
end,  he  makes  use  of  a  lever.  The  handle  of  a  pump  is 
a  lever  also ;  even  the  poker  with  which  we  raise  the  fire 
is  a  lever,  the  bar  of  the  grate  is  the  prop,  and  the  end 
which  we  hold  in  our  hands  is  the  strength  or  power.  This 
is,  however,  not  the  only  kind  of  lever,  for  in  fact  there 
are  three  different  ways  of  using  the  lever,  and  from  the 
different  ways  of  using  it,  it  is  called  a  lever  of  the  first, 
second,  or  third  kind,  viz.  of  the  first  kind,  when  the 
weight  is  on  one  side  of  the  prop,  and  the  power  on  the 
other :  of  the  second  kind,  when  the  weight  is  between 
the  prop  and  the  power;  and  of  the  third  kind,  when  the 
power  is  between  the  prop  and  the  weight. 

Many  instruments  in  common  use  are  levers  of  these 
kinds,  thus  pincers,  sheers,  and  snuffers  are  compounded 
of  two  levers  of  the  first  kind.  Cutting  knives  used  by 
druggists  are  levers  of  the  second  kind,  and  so  are  doors, 
oars,  and  bellows.  A  ladder,  reared  by  a  man  against  a 
wall,  is  a  lever  of  the  third  kind,  and  so  are  all  the  bones 
and  muscles  of  animals. 

.  The  ivheel  and  axle  is  an  engine  consisting  of  a  wheel 
fixed  upon  the  end  of  an  axle,  so  that  they  both  turn 
round  together  at  the  same  time.  The  power  being 
applied  at  the  circumference  of  the  wheel,  the  weight  to 
be  raised  is  fastened  to  a  rope  that  coils  round  the  axle. 


NATURAL  AND  EXPERIMENTAL   PHILOSOPHY.  179 

The  capstan  used  on  ship-board,  for  the  purpose  of  weigh- 
ing anchors,  is  a  cylinder  of  wood  with  holes  in  it,  into 
which  are  put  bars  or  levers  to  turn  it  round ;  these  are 
like  the  spokes  of  a  wheel  within  the  rim.  Sometimes 
the  axis  is  turned  by  a  winch  fastened  to  it,  which  in  this 
respect  serves  for  a  wheel,  and  is  more  powerful  in  pro- 
portion to  the  largeness  of  the  circle  it  describes,  com- 
pared with  the  diameter  of  the  axle. 

A  pulley  is  a  small  wheel  moveable  round  an  axis, 
called  its  centre  pin,  with  a  drawing  rope  passing  over 
it.  The  chief  use  of  the  single  pulley  is  to  change, the 
direction  of  the  power  from  upwards  to  downwards,  and 
to  convey  bodies  to  a  great  height  or  distance,  without  a 
person  moving  from  the  place. 

The  inclined  'plane  is  made  by  planks,  bars,  or  beams 
laid  aslope;  by  which  large  and  heavy  bodies  may  be 
more  easily  raised  or  lowered,  by  sliding  them  up  and 
down  the  plane;  and  the  increase  of  power  is  in  the  pro- 
portion of  the  length  of  the  plane  to  its  height.  In 
drawing  a  weight  upon  an  inclined  plane,  the  power  acts 
to  the  greatest  advantage,,  when  its  direction  is  parallel 
to  the  plane. 

The  wedge,  which  resembles  two  inclined  planes,  is 
very  useful  to  drive  in  below  very  heavy  weights,  to 
raise  them  only  a  small  height,  and  to  cleave  and  split 
blocks  of  wood  and  stone.  The  power  exerted  by  it  is  in 
proportion  of  the  slant  side  to  half  the  thickness  of  the 
back.  So  that  if  the  back  of  a  wedge  be  two  inches 
thick,  and  the  side  twenty  inches  long,  any  weight 
pressing  on  the  back  will  balance  twenty  times  as  much 
acting  on  the  side.  But  the  great  use  of  a  wedge  lies  in 
its  being  urged  not  by  pressure,  but  usually  by  percussion, 
as  by  the  blow  of  a  hammer  or  mallet ;  by  which  means 
a  wedge  may  be  driven  in  below,  and  so  be  made  to  lift 
almost  any  weight,  as  the  largest  ship,  by  a  man  striking 
the  back  of  a  wedge  with  a  mallet. 

The  screw  is  a  kind  of  perpetual  inclined  plane,  the 
power  of  which  is  still  farther  assisted  by  the  addition  of 
a  handle  or  lever,  where  the  power  acts  :  so  that  the  gain 
in  power  is  in  the  proportion  of  the  circumference  de- 
scribed, or  passed  through  by  the  power  to  the  distance 
between  thread  and  thread  in  the  screw.    The  uses  to 


180 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE, 


which  the  screw  is  applied  are  various,  as  the  pressing  of 
bodies  together,  such  as  the  press  for  napkins,  for  book- 
binders, packers,  hot-pressers,  &c. 

The  application  of  these  mechanical  powers  to  various 
experiments,  and  to  compound  machines,  to  the  regula- 
tion of  motion  by  fly-wheels,  the  construction  of  mills  of 
various  kinds,  clock-work,  and  wheel-carriages,  it  would 
exceed  our  limits  to  describe. 

Of  Hydrostatics. 

The  word  Hydrostatics  implies  the  science  which 
relates  to  the  weight  of  water  compared  with  that  of  other 
bodies ;  but  the  science  as  now  taught  and  cultivated, 
treats  not  only  of  the  weight  and  pressure,  but  of  every 
thing  relative  to  the  action  and  mechanical  properties  of 
fluids  in  general,  or,  at  least,  of  the  dense  or  incompress- 
ible kind,  such  as  water,  &c. 

Though  water  is  generally  regarded  as  incompressible, 
yet  it  is  not  wholly  so,  since  it  is  capable  of  transmitting 
sound,  which  proves  that  it  is  elastic,  and  every  elastic 
body  must  be  compressible.  To  prove  the  fact,  however, 
the  Florentine  academicians  filled  a  globe  perfectly  full 
with  water,  and  afterwards  closed  the  orifice  by  a  tight 
screw.  The  globe  was  then  put  into  a  press  of  consider- 
able force ;  it  was  a  little  flattened  at  the  sides  by  the 
force  of  the  press,  but  was  proportionably  extended  in 
other  parts  of  its  surface,  so  that  it  was  concluded  that 
the  water  did  not  occupy  less  space  than  before.  On 
pressing  it  still  harder,  the  water  was  made  to  exude 
through  the  pores  of  the  gold,  and  adhered  to  its  surface 
like  drop  of  dew.  From  this  experiment  it  may  be  in- 
ferred, that  if  water  is  indeed  capable  of  compression, 
it  is  so  only  in  a  very  slight  degree,  since,  instead  of 
yielding  to  the  force  cf  pressure,  it  found  its  way  out 
through  the  pores  of  the  metal. 

j  The  first  principle  that  may  be  laid  down  with  respect 
'to  the  pressure  of  fluids  is,  that  of  all  waters  lohich  have 
a  communication,  the  surface,  while  they  are  at  rest}  will 
be  perfectly  level. 

Upon  this  principle  it  will  be  evident,  that  water  con- 
veyed  under  the  earth  through  conduit  pipes,  will  always 


NATURAL  AND  EXPERIMENTAL  PHILOSOPHY. 


18i 


rise  to  the  level  of  the  reservoir  whence  it  is  drawn.  It 
is  in  this  manner  thaj  the  cities  of  London  and  West- 
minster are  supplied  with  water,  either  from  the  London 
Bridge  watgr-works  or  the  New  River.  In  the  former 
case,  water  is  raised  from  the  Thames  by  immense  pumps 
worked  by  wheels,  which  are  turned  by  the  tide,  to  a 
reservoir,  which  is  placed  as  high  as  the  highest  part  of 
the  town  whither  water  is  to  be  conveyed  by  pipes  ;  and, 
in  the  latter  it  is  well  known  that  the  reservoir  of  the  New 
River  stands  on  a  rising  ground  near  Islington,  which  is 
higher  than  any  of  the  places  where  the  pipes  terminate. 

The  reason  why  the  water  thus  rises  to  its  level,  is 
because  fluids  press  equally  on  all  sides. 

Another  maxim  in  hydrostatics,  of  equal  importance 
with  the  former  is,  that  every  body  lighter  than  water,  or, 
in  other  words,  which  swims  in  water,  displaces  exactly  as 
much  of  the  water  as  is  equal  to  its  own  weight. 

Hence,  it  is  plain,  that  a  boat  or  other  vessel  sailing 
upon  the  water,  displaces  exactly  as  much  of  the  fluid  as 
is  equal  to  the  vessel  and  its  lading,  and,  if  more  weight 
is  added,  it  will  sink  deeper  in  the  same  proportion,  or,  in 
other  words,  a  weight  of  water  equal  to  the  added  lading 
will  be  displaced,  whence  a  laden  ship  is  said  to  draw 
more  water,  that  is,  to  sink  deeper  than  when  it  is  light  or 
unloaded. 

Every  body,  on  the  other  hand,  which  is  heavier  than 
water,  or  which  sinks  in  water,  displaces  so  much  of  the 
water  as  is  equal  to  the  bulk  of  the  body  sunk  or  immersed 
in  the  Water.  Thus,  it  is  plain,  that  if  a  leaden  bullet  is 
dropped  into  a  vessel  of  water,  it  will  take  up  just  as 
much  room  as  a  small  globe  of  water  of  equal  dimensions. 
On  this  principle  is  founded  the  tables  of  specific  gravities, 
and  what  is  called  the  hydrostatic  balance ;  for  since 
every  body  that  sinks,  displaces  a  quantity  of  water  ex- 
actly equal  to  its  own  bulk,  it  follows,  that  every  body, 
when  immersed  in  water,  loses  so  much  of  its  weight  as  is 
equal  to  the  weight  of  an  equal  bulk  of  water.  Thus,  if  the 
body  when  weighed  in  air  is  two  ounces  in  weight,  and 
an  equal  bulk  of  water  is  one  ounce,  it  will  of  course  lose, 
when  weighed  in  water,  one  ounce  of  apparent  weight. 
It  is  by  this  means  that  adulterate  metals  or  coins  are 
distinguished  from  the  true  ones;  thus  copper  is  bulk  for 
16 


182 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE, 


bulk  heavier  than  tin,  and  gold  is  heavier  than  copper  ot 
brass,  which  is  a  mixture  of  copper  and  zinc.  If,  there- 
fore a  brass  counter  is  offered  for  a  guinea,  though  it  may 
not  to  the  eye  appear  much  larger  than  a  real  guinea, 
yet  you  may  depend  upon  it  that  it  is  so  in  fact.  We  then 
take  a  guinea,  which  we  are  sure  is  real  gold,  and 
weighing  it  first  in  air,  and  then  in  water,  we  find  it  loses 
about  one-nineteenth  of  its  weight  in  the  latter.  We  then 
weigh  the  brass  counter  in  the  same  way,  and  find  it 
loses  about  one  eighth,  which,you  see,  is  much  more,  and 
therefore  we  cannot  doubt  but  the  coin  is  made  of  base 
metal.  When  you  look  at  tables  of  specific  gravities,  you 
see  the  specific  gravity  of  gold  put  down  at  about  nine- 
teen one-half,  of  mercury  about  thirteen  one-half,  lead 
eleven  one-quarter,  silver  ten  one-quarter,  copper  eight  one- 
half,  iron  seven  one-half,  tin  seven  one-quarter,  &c. ;  that 
is,  gold  is  nineteen  times  one-half  heavier  than  its  bulk  of 
water,  and  consequently  loses  more  than  one-nineteenth 
of  its  weight  in  that  fluid. 

It  is  upon  the  same  principles  that  the  density  of  differ- 
ent fluids  is  put  to  the  test.  It  might,  it  is  true,  be  ascer- 
tained by  weighing  them  against  each  other  in  different 
scales ;  but  it  may  be  done  in  a  more  easy  and  expeditious 
manner  upon  the  hydrostatic  plan,  since  the  same  body 
that  will  sink  in  one  fluid,  will  swim  in  another,  and  the 
same  body  will  sink  to  different  depths  in  different  fluids. 
Thus  old  women  in  the  country  try  the  body  of  their 
mead  and  other  liquors,  by  observing  whether  an  egg  will 
swim  in  them,  which  will  sink  in  common  water.  The 
exact  relative  weight  of  fluids  may  be  ascertained  by  sus- 
pending from  one  end  of  an  accurate  balance,  either  a 
small  globe,  or  a  conical  piece  of  glass.  Its  weight  in 
water  being  previously  ascertained,  which  suppose  to  be 
two  hundred  and  twelve  grains;  if  it  is  immersed  in  a 
fluid  heavier  than  water,  some  weights  must  be  added  in 
the  opposite  scale,  as  for  instance,  if  it  is  sea- water,  ten 
grains  must  be  added,  which  will  make  the  relative  weight 
of  sea-water  to  common  water,  as  four  hundred  and 
twenty-two  to  four  hundred  and  twelve ;  if,  on  the  con- 
trary, it  is  immersed  in  brandy,  which  is  less  dense,  and 
consequently  lighter  than  water,  you  will  find  it  necessary 
to  take  out  of  the  opposite  scale  about  forty  grains,  and 


NATURAL  AND  EXPERIMENTAL  PHILOSOPHY. 


183 


then  the  relative  weight  of  brandy  to  water  will  be  as 
three  hundred  and  seventy-two  to  four  hundred  and 
twelve,  or  about  one-tenth  lighter. 

A  very  convenient  instrument  is  made  use  of  by  excise- 
men, officers  of  the  customs,  and  all  whose  business  is  to 
ascertain  the  density  or  strength  of  liquors.  It  is  called 
a  hydrometer,  and  is  nothing  more  than  a  small  hollow 
globe  of  glass  or  metal  with  a  stem  to  it,  like  the  handle 
of  a  teetotum,  but  longer,  which  stem  is  marked  or  gradu- 
ated.— The  instrument  is  made  so  that  the  ball  sinks  in 
water,  but  not  entirely,  and  therefore  a  part  of  the  stem  is 
always  above  the  surface.  If  it  is  immersed  in  a  fluid 
lighter  than  water  it  will  sink,  and  less  of  the  stem  will 
be  above  the  surface ;  if  in  a  heavier  fluid  it  will  rise 
higher,  and  more  of  the  stem  will  be  seen. 

Proof-spirit  consists  of  half  water  and  half  pure  spirit ; 
that  is  such  as  when  poured  on  gunpowder  and  set  on  fire, 
will  burn  all  away ;  and  permit  the  powder  to  take  fire 
and  flash,  as  in  open  air.  But  if  the  spirit  be  not  so  high- 
ly rectified,  there  will  remain  some  water,  which  will 
make  the  powder  wet,  and  unfit  to  take  fire.  Proof 
spirit  of  any  kind  weighs  seven  pounds  twelve  ounces 
per  gallon. 

The  common  method  of  shaking  the  spirits  in  a  phial, 
and  raising  a  head  of  bubbles,  to  judge,  by  their  manner 
of  rising  or  breaking  whether  the  spirit  be  proof  or  near 
it,  is  very  fallacious.  There  is  no  way  so  certain,  and  at 
the  same  time  so  easy  and  expeditious,  as  this  by  the 
hydrometer;  which  will  infallibly  demonstrate  the  differ- 
ence of  bulks,  and  consequently  the  specific  gravities  in 
equal  weights  of  spirits,  to  the  thirty,  forty,  or  fihy 
thousandeth  part  of  the  whole  ;  which  is  a  degree  of  ac- 
curacy no  one  can  wish  to  exceed. 

To  the  science  of  hydrostatics,  belongs  the  construction 
of  that  curious  machine,  called  the  diving-bell.  It  is  an 
empty  vessel  in  the  form  of  a  bell  inverted,  and  made  so 
heavy  as  to  sink  in  water.  Its  ingenious  inventor  Dr. 
■Hal ley,  was  one  of  five  persons,  who,  inclosed  in  a  diving- 
bell,  were  let  down  to  the  depth  of  nine  or  ten  fathoms  of 
water  for  above  an  hour  and  a  half  at  a  time,  without 
experiencing  any  ill  effects.  He  says  he  might  have 
continued  there  as  much  longer  as  he  pleased.    By  the 


184 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


glass  above,  so  much  light  was  transmitted,  when  the  sun 
shone,  and  the  sea  was  clear  and  even,  that  he  could  see 
perfectly  well  to  read  and  write,  and  to  take  up  any  thing 
that  was  under  the  bell  ;  and  by  the  return  of  the  air- 
barrels,  he  could  send  up  orders,  written  with  an  iron  pen 
on  small  pieces  of  lead,  when  he  wanted  to  be  removed 
from  place  to  place.  But  in  misty  weather,  or  when  the 
sea  was  rough,  it  was  nearly  dark  in  the  bell,  and  he  was 
then  obliged  to  burn  a  candle,  which  consumed  about  as 
much  air  as  one  person. 

Of  Hydraulics. 

Hydrostatics,  we  have  seen,  is  that  science  which 
relates  to  the  weight  and  pressure  of  fluids:  the  science  of 
Hydraulics  teaches  us  what  respects  the  motion  of  fluids, 
and  the  means  of  raising  them  by  pumps,  and  conducting 
them  by  pipes  or  aqueducts  from  one  station  to  another. 

It  was  laid  down  as  a  principle,  in  the  preceding  article, 
that  of  all  waters  which  communicate  with  each  other, 
the  surface  will  be  level,  or,  in  common  language,  that 
water  will  rise  to  its  level,  or  to  the  same  height  as  its 
source. — The  reason  of  this  was  not  fully  assigned  then, 
because  it  was  not  necessary ;  it  was  observed,  that  fluids 
press  equally  on  all  sides,  but  the  true  reason  of  the  level 
surface  of  water  in  the  pressure  of  another  fluid,  that  is, 
the  air  or  atmosphere,  which,  as  it  bears  equally  on  all 
points  of  the  earth's  surface,  must  equally  press  the  source 
from  which  water  is  derived  ;  and  the  orifice  of  the  tube 
or  pipe  in  which  it  rises. 

That  water  will  not  flow  unless  exposed  to  the  pressure 
of  the  atmosphere,  will  be  plain  from  filling  a  cask  or  other 
vessel  perfectly  full  of  this  fluid.  If  the  bung  is  perfectly 
tight,  and  there  is  no  aperture  above  for  the  air  to  press 
upon  it  and  force  it  out,  it  is  in  vain  that  we  shall  attempt 
to  draw  it  off  by  opening  a  passage  for  it  below.  Hence 
the  use  of  vent  holes,  and  of  vent  pegs,  in  casks,  by  rais- 
ing the  vent  peg  air  is  admitted,  which  forces  the  liquor 
to  flow  out  at  the  cock  or  fosset,  whereas  if  the  vent  peg 
was  kept  tight,  no  liquor  whatever  could  be  obtained. 

It  is  by  the  pressure  of  the  atmosphere  that  the  com- 
mon  or  sucking  pump  is  enabled  to  act.    It  is  said  to 


NATURAL  AND  EXPERIMENTAL  PHILOSOPHY.  185 

have  been  invented  by  a  mathematician  of  the  name  of 
Ctesbes,  about  one  hundred  and  twenty  years  before 
Canst;  but  the  principle  on  which  it  acted  was  un- 
known till  the  last  century.  Mankind,  perfectly  igno- 
rant that  the  air  had  weight,  attempted  to  account  for 
these  effects  by  a  maxim  not  only  unfounded,  but  even 
destitute  of  meaning.  That  was,  "  that  nature  abhorred 
a  vacuum."  What  they  meant  by  Nature  is  as  little  to 
be  understood,  as  when  the  same  word  is  used  by  those 
ignorant  and  absurd  persons  who  affect  to  deny  the  ex- 
istence of  a  God.  Absurd,  however,  as  this  maxim  was, 
it  remained  uncontradicted  till  within  these  one  hundred 
and  fifty  years,  when  it  met  with  a  practical  refutation. 
About  that  time  some  workmen  were  employed  by  the 
Duke  of  Florence,  to  raise  water  by  a  sucking  pump  to 
the  height  of  fifty  or  sixty  feet.  A  pump  was  accordingly 
constructed  for  that  purpose,  but,  after  all  their  efforts, 
they  were  unable  to  raise  it  above  the  height  of  thirty-two 
feet.  It  was  then  found,  either  that  nature  had  not  this 
horror  of  a  vacuum,  or,  at  least,  that  it  was  a  very  limited 
kind  of  a  horror ;  for  why  should  nature  have  a  horror  of 
a  vacuum  at  one  height,  and  hot  at  another?  The  mat- 
ter was  referred  to  the  famous  astronomer  and  philo- 
sopher Galileo,  but,  strange  to  relate,  he  was  unable  to 
solve  the  difficulty! 

The  difficulty  is,  however,  now  explained.  A  pump  is 
a  hollow  piece  of  timber,  to  the  bore  of  which  a  piston, 
bucket,  or  sucker,  is  exactly  fitted.  The  piston  has  a 
valve  in  it  made  with  leather,  like  the  clapper  of  a  bellows. 
When  the  piston  is  forced  down,  therefore,  the  air,  or  any 
fluid  contained  in  the  pump,  will  force  it  open  ;  and  when 
the  piston  is  drawn  up,  the  pressure  of  the  air  or  water, 
which  has  been  admitted  in  that  way,  wTill  keep  the  valve 
down.  It  is  found,  however,  that  a  column  of  water,  of 
thirty-two  or  thirty-three  feet  high,  is  equal  in  weight  to 
a  column  of  water  of  the  same  diameter  or  thickness  of 
the  whole  height  of  the  atmosphere.  Consequently,  the 
pressure  of  the  atmosphere  can  never  force  water  through 
any  vacant  space  higher  than  thirty-three  feet.  By  the 
action  of  a  common  pump,  of  four  inches  bore,  and  thirty 
feet  high,  a  single  man  can  discharge  twenty-seven 
gallons  and  a  half  of  water  in  a  minute ;  if  the  pump  is 
16* 


186 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE, 


only  ten  feet  above  the  surface  of  the  well,  the  quantity 
discharged  in  that  time  is  eighty-one  gallons,  six  pints. 

The  forcing  pump  is  upon  a  different  plan.  Here  the 
piston  is  without  a  valve,  and  the  water  which  rises 
through  the  valve  in  the  box,  is  forced  out  by  the  depres- 
sion of  the  solid  piston. 

By  the  means  of  forcing-pumps,  water  may  be  raised  to 
any  height  above  the  level  of  a  stream  or  spring,  provided 
the  machinery  is  sufficiently  powerful  to  work  them. — 
The  London-bridge  water-works,  which  supply  the  city 
of  London  with  water,  consist  of  a  certain  number  of 
forcing  pumps,  which  are  worked  by  large  wheels  turned 
by  the  tide.  There  is  also  a  beautiful  engine  of  this  kind 
at  the  Duke  of  Marlborough's,  at  Blenheim. 

The  most  powerful  forcing  pumps,  however,  are 
wrought  by  steam  engines,  for  steam  is  one  of  the  strong- 
est powers  in  nature.  The  steam  engine  consists  of  a 
large  cylinder  or  barrel,  in  which  is  nicely  fitted  a  solid 
piston,  like  that  of  a  forcing  pump.  The  steam  is  sup- 
plied from  a  large  boiler  close  by,  and  is  admitted  into  the 
cylinder  by  an  orifice,  wrhich  can  be  occasionally  shut. 
The  force  of  the  steam  lifts  the  piston,  to  the  top  of  which 
is  affixed  a  long  lever  to  work  a  forcing  pump,  or  for  any 
other  purpose  ;  and  when  the  piston  is  lifted  a  certain 
height,  it  opens  a  small  valve  in  the  top  of  the  cylinder, 
through  which  a  small  quantity  of  cold  water  being  ad- 
mitted, the  steam  is  condensed,  and  thus  a  vacuum  being 
created,  the  piston  again  descends,  and  is  again  lifted  up 
by  the  force  of  the  steam. 

It  would  far  exceed  the  limits  of  this  work,  to  enter  into 
an  examination  of  all  the  steam  engines  invented  by  dif- 
ferent persons.  It  is  sufficient  to  mention,  that  no  engine 
of  this  kind  has  been  found  upon  careful  trial,  to  be  su- 
perior to  those  of  Mr.  Watt. 

It  maj'  not  be  improper  here  to  state  the  actual  per- 
formance of  some  of  these  engines,  as  they  have  been 
ascertained  by  experiment. 

An  engine,  having  a  cylinder  of  31  inches  in  diameter, 
and  making  17  double  strokes  per  minute,  performs  the 
work  of  forty  horses,  working  night  and  day,  (for  which 
three  relays,  or  120  horses,  must  be  kept)  and  burns 
11,000  pounds  of  Staffordshire  coal  per  day.    A  cylindei 


NATURAL  AND  .EXPERIMENTAL  PHILOSOPHY.  187 

of  19  inches,  making  25  strokes,  of  4  feet  each,  per  mi- 
nute, performs  the  work  of  12  horses  working- constantly, 
and  burns  3,700  pounds  per  day.  A  cylinder  of  24  inches, 
making  22  strokes  of  5  feet,  burns  5,500  pounds  of  coals, 
and  is  equivalent  to  the  work  of  20  horses. 

Optics. 

This  is  a  beautiful  and  interesting  branch  of  science, 
for  it  relates  to  the  properties  of  light,  which  is  the  most 
rapid,  subtle,  and  divisible  of  all  bodies;  and  to  the  struc- 
ture of  the  eye,  the  most  wonderful  organ  of  the  human 
frame. 

Optics  explain  the  manner  in  which  vision  is  effected, 
assign  the  reason  of  the  several  alterations  which  tha 
rays  of  light  undergo  in  the  eye,  and  shew  for  what 
causes  objects  appear  at  different  times  greater  or  smaller, 
more  distinct  or  confused,  nearer  or  remote.  In  thi3 
extensive  signification,  the  science  is  considered  by  Sir . 
Isaac  Newton  in  his  work  on  this  subject. 

The  more  the  properties  of  light  are  investigated,  the 
more  astonishing  they  appear.  A  succession  of  the  par- 
ticles of  light  following  each  other  in  a  straight  line,  is 
called  a  ray  of  light;  and  this  ray,  in  whatever  manner 
its  direction  may  be  changed,  whether  by  refraction, 
reflexion,  or  inflexion,  always  preserves  a  rectilinear 
course  till  it  be  again  changed ;  neither  is  it  possible  to 
make  it  move  in  the  arch  of  a  circle,  ellipsis,  or  other 
curve.  A  proof  of  this,  we  cannot  see  objects  through  a 
crooked  tube. 

Refraction  is  the  elevation  of  a  ray  of  light  from  its 
straight  course,  on  passing  obliquely  out  of  one  medium 
into  another  of  a  different  density.  This  may  be  proved 
by  an  easy  experiment.  Put  a  piece  of  money  into  an 
empty  bason,  and  walk  back  till  you  have  just  lost  sight 
of  the  money,  which  will  be  hid  by  the  edge  of  the  bason. 
Then  pour  water  into  the  bason,  and  you  will  see  ihe 
piece  of  money  distinctly,  though  you  look  at  it  from 
exactly  the  same  distance  as  before. 

The  Reflection  of  the  rays  of  light  from  the  surface  of 
bodies,  is  the  means  by  which  these  bodies  become  visible. 
And  the  disposition  of  bodies  to  reflect  this  or  that  kind 


138 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE 


of  rays  most,  copiously,  is  the  cause  of  their  being  of  dif 
ferent  colours.  When  light  strikes  upon  any  surface,  it  is 
so  reflected,  that  the  angle  of  reflection  is  equal  to  the 
angle  of  incidence.  This  is  one  of  the  fundamental  laws 
of  optics,  and  upon  this  the  properties  of  mirrors  depend. 

Inf  ection  is  a  property,  by  reason  of  which,  when  rays 
of  light  come  within  a  certain  distance  of  any  body,  they 
will  either  be  bent  from  it,  or  towards  it,  this  property 
being  a  kind  of  imperfect  reflection  or  refraction.  It  was 
discovered  by  Sir  Isaac  Newton.  The  particles  which 
compose  a  ray  of  light  are  exceedingly  small.  For  a 
proof  of  this,  if  a  hole  be  made  through  a  piece  of  paper 
with  a  needle,  rays  of  light  from  every  object  on  the 
further  side  of  it,  are  capable  of  passing  through  it  at 
once  without  the  least  confusion;  for  any  one  of  those 
objects  may  as  cleaily  be  seen  through  it,  as  if  no  rays 
passed  through  from  any  of  the  rest.  That  these  par- 
ticles proceed  from  every  point  of  the  surface  of  a  visible 
body,  and  in  all  directions,  is  clear;  because  wherever  a 
spectator  is  placed,  with  regard  to  the  body,  every  point 
of  that  part  of  the  surface  which  is  turned  towards  him, 
is  visible  to  him.  That  they  proceed  from  a  body  in 
right  lines,  we  are  certain,  because  just  so  many  and  no 
more  will  be  intercepted  in  their  passage  to  any  place,  by 
an  interposed  object,  as  that  object  ought  to  intercept, 
supposing  them  to  come  in  such  lines. 

The  velocity  with  which  they  fly  from  the  surface  of  the 
visible  body,  is  no  less  surprising  than  their  minuteness. 
Light  has  been  calculated  to  move  at  the  rate  of  150,000 
miles  in  a  second.  The  method  by  which  philosophers 
estimate  its  velocity,  is  by  their  observations  on  the  eclipses 
of  Jupiter's  satellites,  which  eclipses  appear  to  us  about 
seven  minutes  sooner  than  they  ought  to  do  by  calcu- 
lation, when  the  earth  is  placed  between  the  sun  and  him, 
that  is,  when  we  are  nearest  to  him;  and  as  much  later 
when  the  sun  is  between  him  and  us,  at  which  time  we 
are  farthest  from  him ;  from  whence  it  is  concluded,  that 
thejr  require  about  seven  minutes  to  pass  over  a  space 
equal  to  the  distance  between  the  sun  and  us,  which  is 
about  eighty -one  million  of  miles. 

Light  is  not  a  simple  unmixed  body,  but  is  compounded 
of  different  species,  and  each  species  is  disposed  both  to 


NATURAL  AND  EXPERIMENTAL  PHILOSOPHY.  189 


suffer  a  different  degree  of  refrangibility  in  passing  out  of 
one  medium  into  another,  and  to  excite  in  our  mind  the 
idea  of  a  different  colour  from  the  rest.  Bodies  appear 
of  that  colour,  which  arises  from  the  composition  of  the 
colours,  which  the  several  species  they  reflect  are  dis- 
posed to  excite.  To  prove  this,  let  a  room  be  darkened, 
and  the  sun  be  permitted  to  shine  into  it  through  a  small 
hole  in  the  window-shutter,  and  be  made  to  fall  upon  a 
glass  prism;  then  will  the  sun's  rays,  in  passing  through 
it,  suffer  different  degrees  of  refraction,  and  by  that  means 
be  divided  into  different  rays,  which,  being  received  upon 
a  sheet  of  white  paper,  will  shew  the  following  colours  in 
regular  order,  viz.  red,  orange,  yellow,  green,  blue,  in- 
digo, and  violet;  and  if  the  whole  image  be  divided  into 
360  equal  parts,  the  red  will  occupy  45,  the  orange  27, 
the  yellow  43,  the  green  60,  the  blue  60,  the  indigo  40, 
and  the  violet  80. 

As  a  ray  of  the  sun  may  be  separated  into  these  seven 
primitive  colours,  so  by  their  mixture  in  the  due  propor- 
tions, may  white  be  produced.  White,  therefore,  is  the 
mixture  of  all  the  colours,  as  black  is  the  absence  or  de- 
privation of  colour;  and  this  may  be  proved,  for  by  fixing 
pieces  of  cloth  of  all  the  seven  different  colours  on  the  rim 
of  a  wheel,  and  whirling  it  round  with  great  velocity,  it 
will  appear  to  be  white. 

The  most  remarkable  instance  of  the  separation  of  the 
primary  colours  of  light,  is  that  of  the  rainbow,  It  is 
formed  in  general  by  the  reflection  of  the  solar  rays  from 
the  drops  of  falling  rain.  The  artificial  rainbow  may  be 
produced,  even  by  candlelight,  on  the  water  which  is 
ejected  by  a  small  fountain,  cr  jet  d'eau.  These  ap- 
pearances are  of  t  he  same  nature,  and  depend  on  the  same 
cause,  that  is,  the  refrangibility  of  the  rays  of  light. 

In  order  to  understand  more  fully  the  science  of  optics, 
it  is  necessary  to  consider  the  structure  and  the  formation 
of  the  human  eye,  and  to  observe  how  admirably  it  is 
adapted  to  the  purposes  of  sight. 

The  eye-lids,  like  two  curtains,  protect  and  cover  the 
eyes  during  sleep;  when  we  are  awake,  they  diffuse  by 
their  motion,  and  by  peculiar  organs  of  secretion,  a  fluid 
over  the  eye,  which  cleans  and  polishes  it,  and  renders  it 
more  adapted  to  transmit  the  rays  of  light.    The  eye  it- 


190  tOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  Of  KNOWLEDGE* 

self  is  of  a  globular  form,  but  more  protuberant  on  the 
fore  part  than  behind.  The  eye  has  three  coats  or  mem* 
branes*  called  the  sclerotica,  the  choroides%  and  the  retina. 
Of  these  the  most  curious  is  the  retina*  It  is  a  fine  and 
delicate  membrane,  and  is  spread  like  a  net  over  the  coi> 
cave  surface  of  the  choroid es.  It  serves  to  receive  the 
images  of  objects  produced  by  the  refraction  of  the  dif- 
ferent humours  of  the  eye,  and  painted,  as  it  were,  upon 
its  surface.  It  is  transparent,  but  appears  black  by  rea- 
son of  a  black  liquid  spread  underneath  it.  From  the 
under  part  of  the  eye,  but  not  from  the  centre  part,  pro* 
ceeds  the  optic  nerve,  which  is  supposed  to  convey  to  the 
brain,  the  sensations  produced  upon  the  retina. 

The  coats  of  the  eye,  which  invest  and  support  each 
other,  after  the  manner  of  the  concentric  coats  of  an 
onion  or  other  bulbous  root,  inclose  three  transparent 
bodies,  called  the  aqueous,  crystalline,  and  vitreous 
humours.—- The  aqueous  humour  is  the  most  fluid,  and  is 
thin  and  clear  like  water;  it  is  divided  into  two  portions 
by  the  iris  which  swims  in  it.  The  iris  consists  of  two 
kinds  of  muscular  fibres.  The  former  are  extended  from 
its  extremity,  like  the  radii  of  a  circle,  and  point  towards 
the  middle  of  the  pupil  as  to  a  centre  ;  the  other  fibres  are 
f  circular  and  surround  the  pupil,  having  the  middle  of  it 
for  their  common  centre.  These  are  connected  to  the 
former,  where  they  cross  them,  and  therefore  when 
these  contract,  the  pupil  is  diminished;  when  they 
dilate,  it  is  enlarged.  This  action  takes  place  according 
to  the  distance  or  remoteness  of  objects,  or  the  increase 
or  decrease  of  light.  The  crystalline  humour  is  as 
transparent  as  the  purest  crystal,. but  in  consistence  is  like 
hard  jelly*  Its  form  is  that  of  a  double  convex  lens,  but 
more  convex  on  the  interior,  than  on  the  inferior  surface. 
It  is  contained  in  a  very  strong  transparent  membrane, 
called  the  arachnoides,  and  is  suspended  behind  the  aque- 
ous humour  by  the  ligamentum  ciliare*  The  vitreous 
humour  receives  its  name,  like  the  others,  from  its  appear* 
ance,  which  is  like  melted  glass.  It  is  not  so  hard  as  the 
crystalline,  nor  so  liquid  as  the  vitreous  humour.  These 
humours  are  of  firm  texture  and  soft  substance,  and  are 
best  suited  according  to  the  most  exact  rules  of  optics, 
for  collecting  the  rays  of  light  to  a  point. 


ftAtfURAt  AND  fcXPfifclMEftTAL  PHILOSOPHY.  191 

These  principles,  which  relate  to  the  properties  of  light 
and  the  structure  of  the  eye,  lead  to  many  curious  re- 
searches* For  the  manner  how  sight  is  effected,  the 
power  of  burning  glasses,  the  construction  of  microscopes, 
and  telescopes  of  various  kinds,  whether  solar,  double,  or 
acromatic,  and  their  progressive  improvement  j  and  for 
a  description  of  the  multiplying  glass,  tire  camera  obscura, 
in  which  objects  are  represented  as  they  are  upon  the 
retina  of  the  eye,  reference  must  be  made  to  the  best 
writers  on  the  subject 


Acoustics. 


Acoustics  is  that  science  which  instructs  us  in  the 
nature  of  sound.  It  is  divided  by  some  writers  into  Dia* 
coustics,  which  explains  the  properties  of  those  sounds 
that  come  distinctly  from  the  sonorous  body,  to  the  ear*  • 
and  Catacousticsi  which  treats  of  reflected  sounds ;  but 
this  distinction  is  not  necessary. 

Sound  is  the  undulatory  or  wave-like  motion  of  the  air, 
arising  from  the  tremulous  motion  of  the  parts  of  any  body, 
occasioned  by  a  stroke ;  and  those  undulations,  or  pulse? 
of  the  air,  beating  on  the  tym/panum)  or  drum  of  our  ears, 
convey,  by  the  nerves,  this  sensation  to  our  minds. 

The  vibrations  and  tremors  of  the  air,  excited  by  the 
percussion  of  any  body,  are  propagated  in  concentric 
spheres  all  around  the  said  body  (which  is  their  common 
centre)  to  very  great  distances  ;  and  therefore  let  a  person 
be  any  how,  or  any  where  situated  within  the  verge  of 
those  motions^  he  will  equally  hear  the  sound,  at  equal 
distances  from  the  body  whence  it  comes. 

Experience  has  taught  us,  that  sound  travels  about 
the  rate  of  1142  feet  in  a  second,  or  near  13  miles  in  a 
minute :  nor  do  any  obstacles  hinder  its  progress,  a  con- 
trary wind  only  a  small  matter  diminishing  its  velocity.— 
The  method  of  calculating  its  progress  is  easily  under- 
stood. When  a  gun  is  discharged  at  a  distance,  we  see 
the  fire  long  before  we  hear  the  sound.  If,  then,  we 
know  the  distance  of  the  place,  and  know  the  time  of  the 
interval  between  our  first  seeing  the  fire,  and  hearing  the 


192 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


report,  it  will  show  us  exactly  the  time  the  sound  has 
been  in  travelling  to  us.  For  instance,  if  the  gun  is  dis- 
charged a  mile  off,  the  moment  the  flash  is  seen,  you 
take  a  watch  and  count  the  seconds  till  you  hear  the 
sound;  the  number  of  seconds  is  the  time  the  sound  has 
been  travelling  a  mile.  Again,  by  the  above  axiom,  we 
are  enabled  to  fjpd  the  distance  between  objects  that 
would  be  otherwise  immeasurable.  For  example,  suppose 
you  see  the  flash  of  a  gun  in  the  night  at  sea,  and  tell 
seven  seconds  before  you  hear  the  report,  it  follows  there- 
fore, that  the  distance  is  seven  times  1142  feet,  that  is,  24 
yards  more  than  a  mile  and  a  half.  In  like  manner,  if 
you  observe  the  number  of  seconds  between  the  lightning 
and  the  report  of  the  thunder,  you  know  the  distance  of 
the  cloud  from  whence  it  proceeds. 

Derham  has  proved,  by  experiment,  that  all  sounds 
whatever  travel  at  the  same  rate.  The  sound  of  a  gun, 
and  the  striking  of  a  hammer,  are  equally  swift  in  their 
motions  ;  the  softest  whisper  flies  as  swiftly,  as  far  as  it 
goes,  as  the  loudest  thunder. 

To  these  axioms  we  may  add  the  following: — Smooth 
and  clear  sounds  proceed  from  bodies  that  are  homoge- 
neous, and  of  an  uniform  figure  ;  and  harsh  or  obtuse 
sounds,  from  such  as  are  of  a  mixed  matter  and  irregular 
figure. 

The  velocity  of  sound,  is  to  that  of  a  brisk  wind  as 
fifty  to  one. 

The  strength  of  sounds  is  greatest  in  cold  and  dense 
air,  and  least  in  that  which  is  warm  and  rarefied. 

Every  point  against  which  the  pulses  of  sound  strike, 
becomes  a  centre  from  which  a  new  series  of  pulses  are 
propagated  in  every  direction. 

Sound  describes  equal  spaces  in  equal  times. 

The  sound  of  bodies  endures  in  proportion  to  the  num- 
ber of  vibrations  made  therein  by  the  stroke,  each  vibration 
producing  a  wave  in  the  air,  and  each  wave  repeating 
the  sound  ;  but  still  more  and  more  faint,  as  the  vibra- 
tions are  less  and  less,  till  they  entirely  cease :  This  is 
easy  to  be  observed  by  the  air  in  bells,  and  by  the  eye  in 
a  string  under  tension. 

An  echo  is  the  repetition  of  sound,  made  by  a  reflection 
or  repercussion  of  a  wave  of  sounds  from  the  surface  of 


Natural  and  experimental  philosophy.  193 

very  bard  and  smooth  obstacles,  as  walls,  &c.  whence 
flying  back,  it  re-salutes  our  ears  with  the  same  sound 
again. 

"The  notes  and  tones  of  sound,  arise  from  the  peculiar 
nature  of  the  sonorous  body,  the  manner  and  degree  of 
percussion,  and  the  different  make  and  configuration  of 
the  organ  or  instrument  of  sound ;  all  these  contribute  to 
make  that  wonderful  variety  and  difference  in  the  tunes, 
notes,  or  tones  of  sound. 

There  is  probably  no  substance  which  is  not  in  some 
measure  a  conductor  of  sound  ;  but  sound  is  much  en- 
feebled by  passing  from  one  medium  to  another.  If  a 
man,  stopping  one  of  his  ears  with  his  finger,  stops  the 
other  also  by  pressing  it  against  the  end  of  a  long  stick, 
and  a  watch  be  applied  to  the  opposite  end  of  the  stick, 
or  of  a  piece  of  timber,  be  it  ever  so  long,  the  beating  of 
the  watch  will  be  distinctly  heard  ;  whereas,  in  the  usual 
way,  it  can  scarcely  be  heard  at  the  distance  of  15  or  18 
feet.  The  same  effect  will  take  place  if  he  stops  both 
his  ears  with  his  hands,  and  rests  his  teeth,  his  temple,  or 
the  cartilaginous  part  of  one  of  his  ears  against  the  end 
of  the  stick.  Instead  of  a  watch,  a  gentle  scratch  may 
be  made  at  one  end  of  a  pole  or  rod,  and  the  person  who 
keeps  the  ear  in  close  contact  with  the  other  end  of  the 
pole,  will  hear  it  very  plainly.  Thus,  persons  who  are 
dull  of  hearing,  may  by  applying  their  teeth  to  some  part 
of  an  harpsichord,  or  other  sounding  body,  hear  the  sound 
much  better  than  otherwise. 

If  a  person  tie  a  poker,  or  any  other  piece  of  metal  on 
to  the  middle  of  a  strip  of  flannel  about  a  yard  long,  then 
press  with  his  thumbs  or  fingers  the  ends  of  the  flannel 
into  his  ears,  while  he  swings  the  poker  against  any  ob- 
stacle, as  an  iron  or  steel  fender,  he  will  hear  a  sound  very 
like  that  of  a  large  church  bell. 

Sound,  like  that,  after  it  has  been  reflected  from  several 
places,  may  be  collected  in  one  point,  as  into  a  focus ;  and 
it  will  be  there  more  audible  than  in  any  other  part,  even 
than  at  the  place  from  whence  it  proceeded. — On  this 
principle  it  is,  that  a  whispering  gallery  is  constructed 


194 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE, 


Of  Electricity. 

If  the  electrical  fluid  is  not  the  matter  of  fire,  as  has 
been  conjectured,  it  resembles  that  element  in  so  many  of 
its  phenomena  and  effects,  that  there  is  reason  to  believe 
it  a  combination  of  that  element  with  some  other  sub- 
stance. But  of  the  nature  of  that  combination  we  are  at 
present  ignorant. 

The  electric  matter  resembles  the  matter  of  fire  in  its 
most  usual  effect,  the  power  of  igniting  or  setting  on  fire 
inflammable  bodies;  in  melting  metals;  in  the  emission 
of  light ;  and  in  the  velocity  of  the  electric  light.  Friction, 
which  is  known  to  produce  heat  and  fire,  is  also  the  most 
powerful  means  of  exciting  electricity  ;  heat  also  extends 
itself  most  rapidly  in  humid  bodies  and  metals,  and  these 
are  the  best  conductors  of  electricity;  and.  as  heat  or  fire 
is  the  most  elastic  of  all  fluids,  and  perhaps  the  greatest 
cause  of  repulsion,  so  the  electrical  repulsion  may5  per- 
haps, be  referred  to  the  same  principle. 
-  On  the  contrary,  there  are  some  facts  which  seem  to 
prove  that  the  electric  matter  is  somewhat  different  in  its 
nature  from,  pure  elementary  fire.  The  electric  matter 
affects  the  organs  of  scent ;  its  progress  may  also  be  ar- 
rested by  certain  matters,  which,  on  that  account,  are 
called  non-conductors;  glass,  in  particular,  which  admits 
the  passage bf  both  heat  and  light,  stops  the  course  of  the 
electric  matter ;  on  the  contrary,  the  electric  fluid  will  ad- 
here most  tenaciously  to  some  other  bodies,  without  diffus- 
ing itself  even  to  those  which  are  in  contact  with  them  : 
thus  an  electric  spark  has  been  drawn  by  a  wire  through 
the  water  of  the  river  Thames,  and  has  set  fire  to  spirit  of 
wine  on  the  opposite  side. 

The  principal  phenomena  of  electricity  are,  first,  the 
electrical  attraction  and  repulsion.  Secondly,  the  elec- 
trical fire  rendered  visible ;  and,  thirdly,  the  power  which 
certain  substances  possess  of  conducting  the  electrical 
matter;  whence  arise  the  distinction  between  conductors 
and  non-conductors,  or  non-electric  and  electric  bodies. — 
The  electric  are  those  which  are  capable  of  being  excited, 
such  as  glass,  amber,  &c.  but  do  not  conduct ;  the  non- 
electrics  are  such  as  conduct  the  electric  matter,  but  can* 


NATURAL  AND  EXPERIMENTAL    HILOSOPHY.  195 

not  be  excited  to  produce  it,  such  are  metals,  stones,  and 
all  fluid  matters. 

The  bodies  which  do  not  conduct  the  electric  fluid  are 
most  capable  of  exciting  it,  and  are  supposed  to  be  natu- 
rally charged  or  loaded  with  a  quantity  of  it.  They  have, 
therefore,  been  called  electrics  ;  such  are  amber,  jet,  sul- 
phur, glass,  and  all  precious  stones,  and  resinous  sub- 
stances ;  and  the  dried  parts  of  animals,  except  the  bones, 
such  as  hair,  wool,  silk,  &c.  On  the  contrary,  stony 
substances  in  general,  alum,  pjoites,  vitriolic  acid,  black 
lead,  charcoal,  and  all  kinds  of  metals  are  among  the 
electrics,  or  those  which  conduct  the  electric  fluid. 

Soon  after  the  discoveries,  as  above  related  of  Mr  Grey, 
both  the  English  and  German  philosophers  contrived 
means  of  accumulating  the  electric  matter,  and  increas- 
ing its  effects.  Not  only  the  electric  fire  was  rendered 
visible,  but  it  was  made  to  pass  from  one  conducting  body 
to  another.  Spirits  and  other  inflammable  matters  are 
easily  set  on  fire  by  the  electric  spark;  and  animal  bodies 
were  made  to  feel  what  is  called  the  electric  shock,  that 
is,  the  uneasy  sensation  felt  on  the  electric  fluid  passing 
through  any  part  of  our  bodies, 

When  electrical  machines  were  first  constructed,  in- 
stead of  a  cylinder,  a  glass  globe  was  made  use  of ;  and 
when  this  was  turned,  the  hand  of  the  operator  was  ap- 
plied to  it,  and  afterwards  a  piece  of  glove  leather;  but 
the  most  effectual  and  easy  means  is  now  found  to  be  a 
leather  cushion  covered  or  smeared  over  with  what  is 
called  an  amalgam,  or  a  mixture  of  tin  and  mercury.  A 
small  chain  is  also  annexed  to  the  apparatus,  in  order  to 
make  a  communication  with  the  earth.  When  the  chain 
is  laid  over  that  conductor  which  communicates  with  the 
cushion,  then  that  conductor  is  no  longer  insulated,  but 
an  immediate  communication  is  established  with  the 
earth;  if,  on  the  contrary,  the  chair  is  taken  from  it,  and 
laid  over  the  prime  conductor,  different  effects  are  pro* 
duced,  which  we  shall  endeavour  hereafter  to  explain. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  observe,  that  the  electrical 
power  is  excited  by  turning  the  cylinder  pretty  quickly 
round,  while  it  rubs  against  the  cushion.  On  turning 
the  cylinder  for  a  little  time  in  this  manner,  you  will  find 
that  the  sparks  may  be  drawn  by  your  knuckle  from  the 


196 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


prime  conductor,  which  is  then  charged  or  loaded  with 
the  electric  matter,  and  this  matter,  has  }tou  will  perceive, 
a  kind  of  sulphureous  smell.  Again,  if  a  metal  plate  is 
placed  at  some  distance  beneath  the  conductor,  and  some 
light  bodies,  such  as  feathers,  straws,  or  little  images  of 
men  and  women  cut  in  paper  are  presented  to  it,  ycu  will 
find  that  they  will  be  first  attracted  to  the  conductor,  they 
then  become  in  fact  conductors  themselves,  and,  as  soon 
as  charged  with  the  electrical  matter,  they  will  be  re- 
pelled;  they  will  then  fly  to  the  plate,  and  discharge  the 
electricity  they  have  received,  and  then  be  in  a  state  to 
be  attracted  again,  when  they  will  again  fly  up  the  con- 
ductor;  and  a  very  curious  effect  is  produced  by  the  little 
images  being  thus  put  in  motion  by  a  kind  of  magical 
power. 

The  human  body  itself  may,  in  this  manner,  be  made 
a  conductor,  but  to  enable  it  to  accumulate  any  quantity 
of  the  electric  matter,  the  man  must  be  insulated,  that  is, 
some  non-conducting  substance  must  be  placed  between 
him  and  the  earth,  and  he  must  stand  upon  a  cake  of 
rosin,  wax,  or  sulphur,  or  upon  a  stool  with  glass  legs. 
If,  then,  he  lays  his  hand  upon  the  conductor,  his  body 
will  be  filled  with  the  electrical  matter,  and  sparks  may 
be  drawn  from  any  part,  upon  being  touched  by  another 
person ;  and  each  spark  will  be  attended  with  a  crackling 
noise,  and  a  painful  sensation  to  each  party.  If,  in  the 
same  circumstances,  spirit  of  wine  is  presented  to  the 
man  in  a  metal  spoon,  when  he  touches  it  with  his  finger 
it  will  be  set  on  fire ;  and  gunpowder,  or  any  other  very 
inflammable  substance,  may  be  kindled  in  the  same 
manner. 

As  metals  are  the  most  powerful  conductors  of  electri- 
city, if  a  wire  of  iron,  or  any  other  material,  is  suspended 
by  silken  cords,  (that  is,  insulated)  the  electric  matter 
may  be  conveyed  to  an  immense  distance,  through  dry 
air,  for  air  is  a  non-conducting  substance  when  not  moist, 
and  therefore  will  not  draw  away  the  electric  matter.  In 
this  manner  some  French  philosophers  conveyed  the 
electric  fire  through  a  circuit  of  three  miles.  Nay,  though 
water  is  a  conductor,  yet  not  being  so  powerful  as  metals, 
Dr.  Watson,  of  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields,  conveyed  (as  has 
been  observed,)  the  electric  fire,  by  means  of  a  wire, 


NATURAL  AND  EXPERIMENTAL  PHILOSOPHY.  197 


through  the  Thames,  and  it  set  fire  to  spirit  of  wine  on 
the  opposite  side. 

When  any  bodj'  contains  a  superfluous  quantity  of  the 
electric  fluid,  it  is  then,  according  to  the  Franklinean 
theory,  electrified  positive  or  plus ;  when  it  contains  less 
than  its  proper  share,  it  is  said  to  be  negative  or  electrified 
minus,  that  is,  some  of  its  electricity  is  taken  from  it.  If 
a  rough  and  smooth  body  are  rubbed  together,  the  smooth 
bod}7  in  general  will  have  the  positive  electricity,  and  the 
rough  the  negative.  Thus,  in  the  ordinary  operation  of 
the  electrical  machine,  the  cylinder  is  positively  electri- 
fied or  plus,  and  the  rubber  negative  or  minus  ;  and  the 
redundancy  of  the  positive  electricity  is  sent  from  the 
cylinder  to  the  prime  conductor. 

Electricity  accelerates  the  exporation  of  liquors,  and 
the  perspiration  of  animals.  There  is  reason  also  to  ap- 
prehend that  it  is  not  without  effect  on  the  vegetable 
creation,  as  from  some  experiments  we  are  led  to  con- 
clude, that  plants  which  have  been  electrified  vegetate 
earlier  and  more  vigorously  than  those  which  have  not 
not  been  subjected  to  its  influence. 

Electricity  is,  indeed,  a  most  powerful  agent  in  nature, 
and  we  are  probably  not  yet  acquainted  with  all  its 
effects.  It  is,  however,  in  the  atmospherical  phenomena 
that  these  effects  are  most  apparent  and  most  tremendous. 
It  is  to  Dr.  Franklin  that  we  are  indebted  for  the  amazing 
discovery,  that  the  cause  which  produces  thunder  and 
lightning  is  precisely  the  same  with  that  which  produces 
the  ordinary  phenomena  of  electricity. 

This  truly  eminent  philosopher  was  led  to  the  disco- 
very by  comparing  the  effects  of  lightning  and  those 
produced  by  an  electrifying  machine,  and  by  reflecting 
that  if  two  gun-barrels,  when  electrified,  will  strike  at 
two  inches  with  a  loud  report,  what  must  be  the  effect  of 
ten  thousand  acres  of  electrified  cloud.  After  much 
thought  upon  the  subject,  he  determined  to  try  whether 
it  was  not  possible  to  bring  the  lightning  down  from  the 
heavens.  A  thought  at  once  daring  and  sublime  !  With 
this  view  he  constructed  a  kite,  like  those  wThich  are 
used  by  school-boys,  but  of  a  larger  size  and  stronger 
materials.  A  pointed  wire  was  fixed  upon  the  kite,  in 
order  to  attract  the  electrical  matter.    The  first  favour- 


198         young  man's  book  of  knowledge. 

able  opportunity  he  was  impatient  to  try  his  experiment, 
and  he  sent  his  kite  up  into  a  thunder-cloud.  The  expe- 
riment succeeded  beyond  his  hopes.  The  wire  in  the 
kite  attracted  the  electricity  from  the  cloud;  it  descended 
along  the  hempen  string-,  and  was  received  by  an  iron 
key  attached  to  the  extremity  of  the  hempen  string,  that 
part  which  he  held  in  his  hand  being  of  silk,  in  order  that 
the  electric  fluid  might  stop  when  it  reached  the  kite. 
At  this  key  he  charged  phials ;  with  which  phials,  thus 
charged,  he  kindled  spirits,  and  performed  all  the  com- 
mon  electrical  experiments. 

Thus  it  is  evident  that  the  cause  of  those  terrible  con- 
vulsions of  nature,  which,  in  warm  climates  especially, 
are  attended  with  such  tremendous  effects,  is  no  other 
than  a  superfluous  mass  of  electrical  matter,  collected  in 
those  immense  watery  conductors,  the  clouds ;  and  that 
this  matter  is  discharged  when  an  electrical  cloud  meets 
with  another  which  is  less  powerfully  charged,  or  when 
it  is  brought  sufficiently  near  the  earth  to  be  within  the 
sphere  of  the  electrical  attraction.  This  fact  may  be 
proved  at  almost  any  time,  but  particularly  in  a  sultry 
summer's  evening,  by  repeating  Dr.  Franklin's  experi- 
ment with  the  kite. 

During  a  thunder  storm,  the  safest  place  is  in  the  cel- 
lar; for  when  a  person  is  below  the  surface  of  the  earth, 
the  lightning  must  strike  it  before  it  can  reach  him,  and 
its  force  will  therefore  probably  be  expended  on  it.  When 
it  is  not  possible  to  retreat  to  the  cellar,  the  best  situation 
is  in  the  middle  of  a  room,  not  under  a  metal  chandelier, 
or  any  other  conducting  surface;  and  it  is  advisable  to 
lay  the  feet  up  upon  another;  or  it  would  be  still  better  to 
lay  two  or  three  beds  or  mattresses  one  upon  another  in 
the  middle  of  the  room,  and  place  the  chairs  upon  them, 
the  matters,  (viz.  hair  and  feathers)  with  which  they  are 
stuffed  being  non-conductors.  Persons  in  fields  should 
prefer  the  open  parts  to  any  shelter  under  the  trees,  &c. 
The  distance  of  a  thunder  cloud,  and  consequently  the 
degree  of  danger,  is  not  however  difficult  to  be  estimated. 
As  light  travels  at  the  rate  of  seventy-two  thousand  four 
hundred  and  twent}r  leagues  in  a  second  of  time,  its  effects 
may  be  considered  as  instantaneous  within  any  moderate 
distance;  but  sounl,  on  the  contrary,  is  transmitted  only 


NATURAL   AND   EXPERIMENTAL   PHILOSOPHY.  199 

at  the  rate  of  three  hundred  and  eighty  yards  in  a  second. 
By  accurately  observing  the  time,  therefore,  which  inter- 
venes between  the  flash  and  the  noise  of  thunder  which 
succeeds  it,  a  very  near  calculation  may  be  made  of  its 
distance. 

The  discovery  of  Dr.  Franklin,  which  ascertained  the 
identity  of  lightning  and  the  electric  fluid,  suggested  to 
the  same  philosopher  the  means  of  preserving  buildings 
from  lightning,  by  means  of  metallic  conductors  attached 
to  the  outside  of  high  buildings.  As  these  are  now  so 
common,  it-is  unnecessary  to  describe  them.  The  prin- 
ciple on  which  they  are  constructed  is  the  well-known 
fact  of  metallic  bodies  being  better  conductors  of  the 
electrical  fluid  than  any  others.  The  conducting  rod  is 
pointed  at  the  top,  in  order  the  more  gradually  to  attract 
the  electricity  from  the  clouds  and  the  atmosphere  ;  and 
the  upper  part  should  be  made  of  copper,  to  prevent  its 
rusting,  and  the  remainder  should  be  painted.  The  con- 
ducting rod  should  not  be  too  slender,  and  should  extend 
in  the  earth  beyond  the  building,  to  convey  the  electric 
matter  clearly  away  ;  and  if  it  terminate  in  a  pool  of 
water,  which  is  one  of  the  best  conductors,  it  will  be  still 
safer. 

Of  Galvanism, 

This  surprising  branch  of  philosophy  has  been  deno- 
minated Galvanism,  from  Galvani,  an  Italian  professor, 
whose  experiments  led  to  its  discovery. 

In  1789,  some  time  before  he  made  the  most  important 
discovery,  he  was  by  accident  led  to  the  fact,  of  electri- 
city having  the  property  of  exciting  contractions  in  the 
muscles  of  animals.  Stimulated  by  the  then  prevailing 
idea  of  electricity  being  a  principle  inherent  in  animals, 
which,  acting  upon  the  muscular  susceptibility,  was  the 
immediate  cause  of  muscular  motion,  he  was  induced  to 
persevere  in  the  inquiry,  during  the  prosecution  of  which 
he  brought  to  light  other  facts,  which  laid  the  foundation 
of  this  valuable  scientific  acquisition. 

After  having  observed  that  common  electricity,  even 
that  of  lightning,  produced  vivid  convulsions  in  the  limbs 
of  recently  killed  animals,  he  ascertained  that  metallic 


200 


YOUNG  MAN?S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


substances,  by  mere  contact,  under  particular  circum- 
stances, excited  similar  commotions. 

He  found,  that  it  was  essential  that  the  forces  of  metals 
employed  should  be  of  different  kinds.  He  applied  one 
piece  of  metal  to  the  nerve  of  the  part,  and  the  other  to 
the  muscle,  and  afterwards  connected  the  metals,  either 
by  bringing  them  together,  or  by  connecting  them  by  an 
arch  of  a  metallic  substance ;  every  time  this  connection 
was  formed  the  convulsions  took  place.  The  diversity  in 
the  metals  employed  in  these  experiments  appeared,  in 
the  very  early  stages  of  this  inquiry,  to  be  connected  with 
their  respective  degrees  of  oxydability,  the  one  being  pos- 
sessed of  that  propertj'  in  a  great  degree,  and  the  other 
little  liable  to  the  change.  Hence  zinc,  and  silver  or 
gold,  was  found  to  produce  the  greatest  muscular  con- 
tractions. The  experiments  of  Galvani  were  confirmed  by 
many  able  philosophers,  by  whom  they  were  repeated* 
Those  who  particularly  distinguished  themselves  by  their 
labours  on  the  subject  were,  Valli,  Volta,  Drs.  Monroe 
and  Fowler. 

As  silver  and  zinc  had  been  found  in  the  minor  experi- 
ments to  produce  the  greatest  effect,  these  metals  were 
en) ployed  by  Volta  in  the  construction  of  his  battery. 
The  silver  plates  generally  consisted  of  coins  ;  and  the 
zinc  plates  were  of  the  same  size,  being  frequently  cast  in 
moulds  made  with  the  silver.  The  same  number  of 
pieces  of  cloth,  pasteboard,  or  leather,  of  the  same  size, 
and  steeped  in  solution  of  common  salt,  were  also  pro- 
vided. The  above  substances  were  formed  into  a  pile,  in 
the  following  order,  zinc,  silver,  wet  cloth,  zinc,  silver, 
wet  cloth  ;  and  so  on,  in  the  same  order,  till  the  pile 
became  sufficiently  high.  If  it  were  to  be  elevated  to 
any  considerable  height,  it  was  usual  to  support  it  on  the 
sides  with  three  pillars  of  glass,  or  varnished  wood. 

The  pile,  thus  formed,  was  found  to  unite  the  effects  of 
as  many  pairs  of  plates  as  might  be  employed.  Previous- 
ly to  this  no  other  effect  had  been  produced  than  what 
resulted  from  the  energy  of  a  single  pair  of  plates.  A 
pile  of  50  pairs  of  plates,  with  as  many  corresponding 
pieces  of  wet  cloth,  was  found  to  give  a  pretty  smart 
shock,  similar  to  an  electric  shock,  every  time  that  a 
communication  was  made  between  the  top  and  bottom  of 


NATURAL  AND  EXPERIMENTAL  PHILOSOPHY. 


201 


the  pile.  It  was  found,  however,  that  little  or  no  shock 
was  perceived,  when  the  hands,  or  other  parts  applied, 
were  not  previously  moistened.  It  was  also  observed, 
that  the  effect  was  increased  when  a  larger  surface  was 
exposed  to  the  action  of  the  pile.  If  the  communication 
were  made  by  touching  the  pile  with  the  tip  of  each  fin- 
ger merely,  the  effect  was  not  perceived  beyond  tho 
joint  of  the  knuckle ;  but  if  a  spoon,  or  other  metallic  sub- 
stance, were  grasped  in  moistened  hands,  the  effect  was 
felt  up  to  the  shoulder.  If  the  communication  be  formed 
between  any  part  of  the  face,  particularly  near  the  eyes, 
and  another  part  of  the  body,  a  vivid  flash  of  light  is 
perceived  before  the  eyes,  corresponding  with  the  shock. 
This  phenomenon  may  be  more  faintly  observed,  by  pla- 
cing a  piece  of  silver,  as  a  shilling,  between  the  upper  lip 
and  the  gum,  and  laying  a  piece  of  zinc  at  the  same  time 
upon  the  tongue ;  upon  bringing  the  two  metals  in  contact, 
a  faint  flash  of  light  is  perceived,  it  is  singular,  that 
this  light  is  equally  vivid  in  the  dark  with  the  strongest 
light,  and  whether  the  eyes  be  shut  or  open. 

The  most  striking  and  the  most  common  experiments 
are  those  which  consist  in  the  galvanic  energy  upon  the 
organs  of  animals.  If  two  metallic  rods,  or,  what  is 
equally  convenient,  two  silver  spoons,  be  grasped,  one  in 
each  hand,  the  skin  of  the  part  being  previously  moisten- 
ed with  a  solution  of  salt,  and  one  of  the  spoons  be  brought 
in  contact  with  one  end  of  the  battery,  the  moment  the 
other  comes  in  contact  with  the  other  end  of  the  battery, 
the  shock  is  perceived.  Fifty  compound  plates  will  give 
a  shock  which  will  be  felt  in  the  elbows;  one  of  a  hun- 
dred will  be  felt  in  the  shoulders ;  a  greater  nurriber  of 
plates  give  so  forcible  a  shock  to  the  muscles,  as  to  be 
dreaded  a  second  time.  The  shock  appears  to  depend  up- 
on the  number  of  plates.  The  stun,  or  first  impression,  is 
much  the  same,  whatever  may  be  the  size  of  the  plates; 
at  least,  from  the  size  of  two  inches  square  to  that  of  ten  ; 
the  surfaces  being  as  four  to  one  hundred.  The  effect 
upon  the  muscles,  as  well  as  upon  the  cuticle  itself ;  is 
very  different  from  large  plates,  when  the  series  is  the 
same,  It  appears  that  the  shock,  or  first  impression,  is 
as  the  series,  which  is  also  the  intensity  of  the  electricity. 
If  the  shock  be  received  from  the  same  number  of  large 


202  YOUNG  MAN5*  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

plates,  the  same  species  of  commotion  is  produced  in  the 
first  instance,  as  with  the  small  plates ;  but  if  the  contact 
be  still  kept  up,  a  continuation  of  the  effect  is  perceived, 
which  is  felt  through  the  whole  arms,  producing  a  vast 
tremor,  attended  with  a  sensation  of  warmth.  If  the 
plates  be  from  eight  to  twelve  inches  square,  this  effect 
may  be  perpetually  kept,  while  the  acids  in  the  cells  is 
expended. 

Though  small  plates  have  been  recommended  for  medi- 
cal purposes,  we  think  large  ones  will  be  found  more 
likely  to  have  a  good  effect.  If  the  medical  advantage 
is  derived  from  the  stimulus  of  galvanism,  the  effect  of  a 
perpetual  and  regular  current  of  that  stimulus  must  cer- 
tainly be  preferable  to  the  rapid  transmission  of  a  small 
quantity. 

The  galvanic  shock  may  also  be  conveniently  given, 
by  immersing  the  hands  or  the  feet  into  vessels  containing 
a  solution  of  salt,  and  bringing  wires  from  each  end  of  the 
battery  into  the  liquid.  If  any  other  part  of  the  body  is 
intended  to  be  operated  upon,  a  sponge  moistened  with 
salt  water,  fastened  to  a  metal  plate  connected  with  one 
end  of  the  battery,  may  be  applied  to  the  part,  and  a 
hand  or  foot  put  into  a  vessel  of  the  same  liquid,  connect- 
ed by  a  wire  with  the  other  end  of  the  battery.  Small 
bits  of  sponge,  or  bits  of  leather,  may  be  fastened  to  the 
end  of  the  connecting  wires,  and  made  more  or  less  moist, 
as  the  delicacy  of  the  part  may  require.  This  contri- 
vance is  very  useful  in  operating  upon  the  eyes  or  ears. 

When  galvanism  is  used  medically,  it  should  first  be 
applied  very  feebly,  and  the  effect  gradually  increased,  as 
the  susceptibility  of  the  part  will  admit.  If  the  part  has, 
from  disease,  become  so  languid  and  insusceptible  as  not 
to  be  sensible  of  the  effect,  it  should  be  scarified,  or  by  other 
means  have  the  cuticle  removed.  This  is  sometimes  the 
case  with  languid  tumours,  and  some  cases  of  paralysis. 
Though  we  had  no  great  opinion  of  the  medical  agency 
of  galvanism,  we  have  lately  heard  of  several  very  suc- 
cessful cases;  one  of  which,  in  particular,  was  the  cure 
of  perfect  loss  of  speech.  If  the  naked  metai  of  the  wire, 
from  a  powerful  battery,  be  applied  to  the  skin,  it  becomes 
cauterized  and  blistered. 

If  the  plate,  covered  With  a  moistened  sponge,  con* 


GEOMETRY. 


203 


nected  with  one  end  of  the  battery,  be  applied  to  the  back 
of  the  head,  at  the  same  time  that  the  moistened  fingers 
of  one  hand  are  slightly  applied  to  the  other  end,  a 
smarting  sensation  will  be  felt  in  the  part,  and  a  taste  at 
the  same  time  will  be  felt  in  the  mouth,  similar,  but  in  a 
greater  degree,  to  that  occasioned  by  the  piece  of  zinc, 
and  the  shilling,  when  laid  upon  the  tongue.  This  ex- 
periment succeeds  the  best  with  a  small  number  of  large 
plates,  as  much  as  ten  inches  square. 


CHAP.  VIL 

GEOMETRY. 

Geometry  is  the  science  of  extension,  and  is  employ- 
ed in  the  consideration  of  lines,  surfaces,  and  solids ; 
as  all  extension  is  distinguished  into  length,  breadth,  and 
thickness. 

This  science  had  its  rise  among  the  Egyptians,  who 
were  in  a  manner  compelled  to  invent  it,  to  remedy  the 
confusion  which  generally  happened  in  their  lands,  from 
the  overflowing  of  the  river  Nile,  which  carried  away  all 
boundaries,  and  effaced  all  the  limits  of  their  possessions. 
And  thus  this  invention,  which  at  first  consisted  only  in 
measuring  the  lands,  that  every  one  might  have  what  be- 
longed to  him,  was  called  land-measuring,  or  geometry. 
But  the  Egyptians  afterwards  applied  themselves  to  more 
subtle  researches,  and,  from  a  very  mechanical  exercise, 
insensibly  produced  this  fine  science,  which  deserves  to 
be  placed  among  those  of  the  first  rank. 

Geometry  is  not  barely  useful,  but  even  absolutely  ne- 
cessary. It  is  by  the  help  of  geometry  that  astronomers 
make  their  observations  ;  regulate  the  duration  of  times, 
seasons,  years,  and  cycles;  and  measure  the  distance, 
motion,  and  magnitudes  of  the  heavenly  bodies, 

It  is  by  geometry  that  geographers  shew  us  the  magni- 
tude of  the  whole  earth,  delineate  the  extent  of  seas,  and 
the  divisions  of  empires,  kingdoms,  and  provinces. 


204 


YOUNG  MAN  8  BOOK  Of  KNOWLE0G£  = 


It  is  from  this  science  that  architects  derive  their  just 
measures  in  the  construction  of  public  edifices,  as  well  as 
of  private  houses. 

It  is  by  its  assistance  that  engineers  conduct  all  their 
works,  take  the  situations  and  plans,  of  towns,  the  distance 
of  places,  and,  in  fine,  the  measure  of  such  things  as  are 
only  accessible  to  the  sight. 

Such  as  are  in  the  military  service  are  obliged  to  apply 
themselves  to  this  science.  It  is  not  only  an  introduction 
to  fortification  (which  shews  them  how  to  build  ramparts 
for  the  defence  of  places,  and  to  construct  and  make  ma 
chines  to  destroy  them),  but  also  gives  them  great  know- 
ledge and  readiness  in  the  military  art,  in  the  drawing  up 
an  army  in  order  of  battle,  and  in  marking  out  the  ground 
in  encampments.  It  also  shews  them  how  to  make  maps 
of  countries  ;  to  take  the  plans  of  towns,  forts,  and  cas- 
tles ;  to  measure  all  kinds  of  dimensions,  accessible  or  in- 
accessible ;  to  give  designs  ;  and,  in  fine,  to  render  them- 
selves as  serviceable  by  their  understanding  and  science, 
as  by  their  strength  and  courage. 

All  who  profess  designing  should  know  something  of 
geometry,  because  they  cannot  otherwise  perfectly  under- 
stand architecture  or  perspective,  which  are  two  things 
absolutely  necessary  in  their  art. 

Music,  mechanics,  and  in  a  word,  all  the  sciences 
which  consider  things  susceptible  of  more  or  less,  i.  e.  all 
the  precise  and  accurate  sciences,  may  be  referred  to 
geometry ;  for  all  speculative  truths  consisting  only  in  the 
relations  of  things,  and  in  the  relations  between  those  re- 
lations, they  may  be  all  referred  to  lines.  Consequences 
may  be  drawn  from  them ;  and  those  consequences,  again, 
being  rendered  sensible  by  lines,  they  become  permanent 
objects,  constantly  exposed  to  a  rigorous  attention  and 
examination.  And  thus  we  have  infinite  opportunities, 
both  of  inquiring  into  their  certainty,  and  pursuing  them 
farther. 

The  reason,  for  instance,  why  we  know  so  distinctly, 
and  mark  so  precisely,  the  concords  called  octave,  fifth^ 
fourth,  $0.  is,  that  we  have  learnt  to  express  sounds  by 
lines,  L  e.  by  chords  accurately  divided ;  and  that  we 
know  that  the  chord  which  sounds  octave  is  double  of 
that  which  it  makes  octave  withal ;  that  the  fifth  is  in 


GEOMETRY. 


205 


the  sesquialterate  ratio,  or  as  three  to  two  ,  and  so  of  the 
rest. 

The  ear  itself  cannot  judge  of  sounds  with  such  preci- 
sion ;  its  judgments  are  too  faint,  vague,  and  variable,  to 
form  a  science.  The  finest,  best-tuned  ear  cannot  distin- 
guish many  of  the  differences  of  sound  ;  whence  many 
musicians  deny  any  such  differences;  as  making  their 
sense  their  judge.  Some,  for  instance,  admit  no  differ- 
ence between  an  octave  and  three  ditones  ;  and  others 
none  between  the  greater  and  lesser  tone  :  the  comma, 
which  is  the  real  difference,  is  insensible  to  them ,  and 
much  more  the  scisma,  which  is  only  half  the  comma. 

It  is  only  by  reason,  then,  that  we  learn,  that  the 
length  of  the  chord  which  makes  the  difference  between 
certain  sounds  being  divisible  into  several  parts,  there  may 
be  a  great  number  of  different  sounds  contained  therein, 
useful  in  music,  which  yet  the  ear  cannot  distinguish. 
Whence  it  follows,  that,  had  it  not  been  for  arithmetic 
and  geometry,  we  had  no  such  thing  as  regular,  fixed 
music  ;  and  that  we  could  only  have  succeeded  in  that 
art  by  good  luck,  or  force  of  imagination ;  i.  e.  music 
would  not  have  been  a  science  founded  on  incontestible 
demonstration ;  though  we  allow  that  the  tunes  composed 
by  force  of  genius  and  imagination  are  usually  more 
agreeable  to  the  ear  than  those  composed  by  rule, 

So,  in  mechanics,  the  heaviness  of  a  weight,  and  the 
distance  of  the  centre  of  that  weight  from  the  fulcrum, 
or  point  it  is  sustained  by,  being  susceptible  of  plus  and 
minus,  the}''  may  both  be  expressed  bylines;  whence 
geometry  becomes  applicable  hereto ;  in  virtue  thereof, 
infinite  discoveries  have  been  made,  of  the  utmost  use  in 
life. 

Geometrical  lines  and  figures  are  not  only  proper  to 
represent  to  the  imagination  the  relations  between  magni- 
tudes, or  between  things  susceptible  of  more  and  less,  as 
spaces,  times,  weights,  motions,  &c. ;  but  they  may  even 
represent  things  which  the  mind  can  no  otherwise  con- 
ceive, e.  g.  the  relations  of  incommeasurable  magnitudes. 

We  do  not,  however,  pretend,  that  all  subjects  men 
may  have  occasion  to  inquire  into,  can  be  expressed  by 
lines.  There  are  many  not  reducible  to  any  such  rule  : 
thus,  the  knowledge  of  an  infinitely  powerful,  infinitely 
18 


208         young  man's  book  of  knowledge. 


just  God,  on  whom  all  things  depend,  and  who  would 
have  all  his  creatures  execute  his  orders,  to  become  ca- 
pable of  being  happy,  is  the  principle  of  ail  morality,  from 
which  a  thousand  undeniable  consequences  may  be 
drawn,  and  yet  neither  the  principle  nor  the  consequences 
can  be  expressed  by  lines  or  figures. 

Indeed,  the  ancient  Egyptians,  we  read,  used  to  ex- 
press all  their  philosophical  and  theological  notions  by 
geometrical  lines.  In  their  researches  into  the  reason  of 
things,  they  observed  that  God  and  nature  affect  perpen- 
diculars, parallels,  circles,  triangles,  squares,  and  harmo- 
nical  proportions ;  which  engaged  the  priests  and  philo- 
sophers to  represent  the  Divine  and  natural  operations  by 
such  figures ;  in  which  they  were  followed  by  Pytha- 
goras, Plato,  &c. 

But  it  must  be  observed,  that  this  use  of  geometry 
among  the  ancients  was  not  strictly  scientifical,  as  among 
us ;  but  rather  symbolical.  They  did  not  argue,  or  reduce 
things  and  properties  unknown  from  lines ;  but  represent* 
ed  or  delineated  things  that  were  known.  In  effect,  they 
were  not  used  as  means  or  instruments  of  discovering,  but 
images  or  characters  to  preserve  or  communicate  the  dis- 
coveries made. 

DEFINITIONS. 

OF  A  POINT. 

A  point  is  that  which  has  no  parts ;  that 
is,  it  has  no  length,  breadth,  nor  thickness. 
But  as  no  operation  can  be  performed  with- 
out the  assistance  of  visible  and  corporeal 
things,  we  must  therefore  represent  the  ma-  a 
thematical  point  by  the  natural  one,  which  • 
is  an  object  of  our  sight,  the  smallest  and 
least  sensible,  and  is  made  by  the  prick  of 
a  pen  or  pencil ;  as  the  point  marked  a. 

A  central  point,  or  centre,  is  a  point  from  whence  a 
circle,  or  circumfernece,  is  described ;  or  rather,  it  is  the 
middle  of  a  figure. 

A  secant  point  is  a  point  through  which  lines  crosa 
each  other,  and  is  usually  called  a  section. 


GEOMETRY. 


20? 


OF  LINES. 

A  line  is  a  length  without  breadth. 

The  line  is  nothing  more  than  the  passage  made  by  a 
point  from  one  place  to  another,  and  would  be  impercep- 
tible, were  it  not  described  by  the  natural  point,  which 
by  its  course  represents  it  to  us. 

There  are  many  sorts  of  lines,  as  the  point  is  suscep 
*ible  of  different  movements. 

A  right  lineis  that  which  is  equallycom- 
prised  between  its  two  extremities ;  or,  it  is 

that  which  a  point  describes  in  its  passage  a  — b 

diiectly  from  one  place  to  another,  without 
any  turnings  ;  as  ab. 

A  curve  line  is  that  which  departs  from  a  ^ — 
direct  opposition  to  its  extremities,  by  one  c /  \ 
or  more  turnings  or  windings;  as  cd.  c  i> 

When  this  line  is  described  by  the  compasses,  it  is 
called  circular. 

A  mixed  line  is  that  which  is  both  right  and  curve. 

The  line  receives  several  other  denominations,  accord- 
ing to  its  various  positions  and  properties. 

A  perpendicular  is  a  right  line  which  a 
falls  upon  or  is  raised  from  another,  mak- 
ing the  angles  on  each  side  of  it  equal;  as 

AB. 


B 

A  plummet  line  is  that  which  descends  directly  down- 
wards, without  inclining  either  to  the  right  or  left,  and 
which,  were  it  infinitely  prolonged,  would  pass  through 
the  centre  of  the  world. 

The  horizontal  is  a  line  in  equilibrium, 
or  that  inclines  equally  in  all  its  parts  J  as    d  e 

DE. 

Parallel  lines  are  those  which  are  oppo- 
site each  other,  and  at  equal  distances ;  as  h 


208 


tfOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


An  oblique  is  a  line  which  is  neither  ho- 
rizontal nor  a  plummet,  but  slanting  -or 
across ;  as  fg. 

The  base  is  the  line  upon  which  any  figure  rests. 

Sides  are  the  lines  which  inclose  any 
figure. 

A  diagonal  is  a  right  line  which  crosses 
any  figure  to  two  opposite  angles  of  the 
same  figure ;  as  ab. 

A  diameter  is  a  right  line  which  crosses 
any  figure  through  its  centre,  and  is  termi- 
nated by  its  circumference  ;  as  cd. 

A  spiral  line  is  a  curve  line  which  de- 
parts from  its  centre,  and  the  farther,  in 
proportion  as  it  turns  round  itself ;  as  ef.* 

A  chord  or  substence,  is  a  right  line  ex- 
tended from  one  end  of  an  arch  to  the  other 
end  thereof ;  as  gh. 

An  arch  is  a  part  of  a  circle  or  circumfe- 
rence ;  as  gih. 

A  tangent  line  is  that  which  touches 
some  figure  without  passing  into  it,  and 
without  being  able  to  pass  into  it,  or  cross 
it.  even  though  it  were  prolonged ;  as  lm. 

A  scant  is  a  line  drawn  from  the  centre 
of  a  circle,  cutting  it,  and  meeting  with  a 
tangent  without;  as  lo. 

If  two  lines  meet  at  their  extremities,  they  either  meet 
directly  or  indirectly.  If  directly,  then  tney  make  but 
one  line ;  if  indirectly,  they  constitute  an  angle, 


G 


OF  ANGLES. 

An  angle  is  the  indirect  course  of  two  lines  to  the  same 
point ;  or,  rather,  it  is  the  space  contained  between  the 
indirect  course  of  two  lines  to  the  same  point. 

When  this  course  is  described  by  two  right  lines,  the 
angle  is  called  rectilinear ;  and  when  it  is  described  by 
two  curve  lines,  it  is  called  curvilinear ;  but  when  it  is 
described  by  two  lines,  one  of  which  is  a  right  and  the 
other  a  curve,  it  is  called  mixtilinear. 


GEOMETRY. 


209 


The  rectilinear  angle,  according  as  it  is  more  or  less 
open,  receives  particular  denominations,  as  right,  acute, 
obtuse :  therefore  the  terms  rectilinear,  curvilinear,  and 
mixtilinear,  have  regard  only  to  the  nature  of  the  lines ; 
and  those  of  right,  acute,  and  obtuse,  respect  only  the 
quantity  of  space  contained  between  the  said  lines. 

A  right  angle  is  when  one  of  its  lines  is 
perpendicular  upon  the  other;  as  edf. 

An  acute  angle  is  that  which  is  less  open  E  q 

than  the  right ;  as  edg. 

An  obtuse  angle  is  that  which  is  more 
open  than  the  right ;  as  fdg.  f 

The  letter  d  in  the  middle  shews  the 
angle. 


D 


DEFINITION  OF  SUPERFICIES. 


A  super fice  is  that  which  has  length  and  breadth, 
without  thickness. 

According  to  geometricians,  as  the  line 
is  a  production  of  the  point,  so  the  super- 
ficies is  a  production  of  the  line.     Thus,  e  g 
supposing  the  line  ef  was  from  each  of  its            ~  ~ 
extremities  drawn  to  gh,  it  constitutes  the 
superficies  ef,  gh,  which  is  an  extent  be- 
tween lines,  that  has  length  and  breadth,  

but  not  depth  or  thickness;  and  this  is  fre-  f  ii 
quently  called  a  surface  ;  or  if  it  is  consi- 
dered with  regard  to  its  extremities,  which 
are  the  lines  by  which  it  is  encompassed,  it 
is  then  called  a  figure. 

If  a  superficies  is  raised,  it  is  called  a  convex  ;  if  it  is 
hollow,  it  is  called  concave ;  and  if  it  is  flat  and  even,  it  is 
called  a  plane. 

The  termination  is  the  bounds  or  limits  of  any  thing. — 
The  point  is  the  termination  of  the  line;  the  line  is  the 
termination  of  the  superfices;  and  the  superflces  is  the 
termination  of  a  body. 


210 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


Of  Rectilinear  Superfices  or  Figures. 

Superfices  have  particular  names  according  to  the  num 
ber  of  their  sides. 

A.  trigofy  or  triangle,  is  a  figure  of  three  sides. 

A  tetragon,  or  square,  figure  of  four  sides. 

A  pentagon,  figure  of  five  sides. 

An  hexagon,  figure  of  six  sides. 

An  heptagon,  figure  of  seven  sides. 

An  octagon,  figure  of  eight  sides. 

A  nonagon,  figure  of  nine  sides. 

A  decagon,  figure  of  ten  sides. 

An  undecagon,  figure  of  eleven  sides. 

A  duodecagon,  figure  of  twelve  sides. 

All  these  figures  are  also  called  by  the  general  name  of 
polygons. 

OF  TRIANGLES. 

The  fewest  number  of  right  lines  that  can  include  a 
space,  are  three,  which  form  a  figure  called  a  triangle, 
or  three-cornered  figure,  consisting  of  six  parts,  viz.  three 
sides  and  three  angles.  Triangles  are  distinguished  by 
the  nature  of  their  angles,  and  the  disposition  of  their 
sides,  in  the  following  manner. 


GEOMETRY. 


211 


I. 

An  Equilateral  Triangle  is  that  in 
which  the  three  sides,  or  lines  are  equal, 

as  ABC. 

n. 

An  Isosceles  Triangle  is  that  which 
has  only  two  equal  sides,  as  bef. 

III. 

A  right-angled  Triangle  has  one  of 
its  angles  right ;  the  side  opposite  the 
right  angle  is  called  the  hypotenuse,  and  e 
the  other  two  sides  are  called  legs  ;  that 
which  stands  upright  is  called  the  per- 
pendicular, and  the  other  the  base :  thus 
bc  is  the  hypotenuse,  ac  the  perpendicu- 
lar, and  ab  the  base  j  the  angles  opposite 
the  two  legs  are  both  acute. 


IV. 

An  Acute-angled  Triangle  has  all  its 
angles  acute,  or  none  of  them  equal  to  a 
right  angle,  as  deg. 


An  Obtuse-angled  Triangle  has  one  of 
its  angles  obtuse,  or  greater  than  a  right 
angle,  as  acb  ;  the  other  two  angles  are 
acute.  1 


All  triangles,  that  are  not  right-angled,  whether  they 
are  acute  or  obtuse,  are  in  general  terms  called  oblique- 
angled  triangles,  without  any  other  distinction. 


212 


YOUNG  MAN  S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


Of  Figures  of  Four  Sides. 


A 

A.  is  a  square,  a  figure  of  four  equal 
sides,  and  four  right  angles. 

B 

B.  a  Long-square,  a  rec tangled  super- 
nces,  which  has  its  angles  right,  but  not 
its  sides  equal, 

C 

C.  a  Rhumbus,  or  a  quadrilateral  figure, 
whose  four  sides  are  equal,  but  not  its 
four  angles. 


D.  a  Rhomboides,  whose  opposite  sides 
and  angles  are  equal,  though  the  figure  is 
neither  equiangular  nor  equilateral. 


BD.  are  also  Parallelograms,  which  are  quadrilateral 
figures,  whose  opposite  sides  are  parallel. 

A  Trapezium  is  a  figure,  two  of  whose  sides  only  are 
parallel,  the  two  others  equal. 

A  Trapeziod,  one  whose  sides  and  angles  are  unequal. 

All  other  figures  of  more  than  four  sides  are  called  by 
the  general  name  of  multilateral. 


GEOMETKV. 


213 


Of  Curves,  or  Curvilinear  Figures. 


A.  is  a  circle,  which  is  a  superfices  or 
figure  perfectly  round,  described  from  a 
centre,  whose  circumference  is  equally  dis- 
tant from  it.  The  circumference  is  the 
extremity  of  the  circle,  or  the  line  which 
Incloses  it. 

B.  an  Oval,  which  is  a  curvilinear  figure 
described  from  several  centres,  and  all 
whose  diameters  divide  equally  in  two. 

C.  an  Elipsis,  which  is  also  a  curvilinear 
figure  described  from  several  centres,  but 
in  the  form  of  an  egg,  and  of  which  there  C 
is  but  one  diameter  that  divides  it  equally 
in  two. 


Of  Mixed  Figures. 


A  semicircle  is  so  much  of  a  circle  as  is  contained 
from  its  diameter  either  way. 

A  sector  is  a  figure  composed  of  two  semidiameters, 
with  more  or  less  than  half  of  the  circle. 

Concentric  figures  are  those  whose  centres  are  the 
same. 

Eccentric  figures  are  those  contained  in  some  measure 
within  each  other,  but  which  have  not  the  same  centre. 


Of  Regular  and  Irregular  Figures. 

A  regular  figure,  is  that  whose  opposite  sides  are  equal 
and  the  same. 

An  irregular  figure,  is  that  composed  of  unequal  sides 
and  angles. 

Similar  figures  are  those  of  which  the  lines  of  one  are 
proportioned  to  the  lines  of  the  other,  though  one  may  be 
greater  or  lesser  than  the  other. 

Equal  figures  are  those  whose  centres  are  the  same, 
and  which  may  be  similar  or  dissimilar. 

An  equiangular  figure  has  all  its  angles  equal. 


214 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  01*  KNOWLEDGE, 


One  figure  is  equiangular  to  another,  when  all  the 
angles  of  one  are  equal  to  all  the  angles  of  the  other. 

An  equilateral  figure  is  that  whose  sides  are  all  equal. 

Similar  curvilinear  figures  are  those  in  which  may  be 
inscribed,  or  round,  which  may  be  circumscribed,  similar 
polygons 

Axioms, 

An  axiom  is  such  a  common,  plain,  self-evident,  and 
received  notion,  that  it  cannot  be  made  more  plain  and 
evident  by  demonstration,  because  it  is  itself  better  known 
than  any  thing  that  can  be  brought  to  prove  it. 

1.  Things  equal  to  one  single  thing,  are  in  themselves 
equal. 

2.  If  equal  things  are  added  to  things  that  are  equal, 
the  whole  will  be  equal. 

3.  If  equal  things  are  added  to  things  that  are  unequal 
the  remainder  will  be  unequal, 

5.  If  equal  things  are  taken  away  from  things  which 
are  unequal,  the  remainder  will  be  unequal. 

6.  Things  which  are  double  the  proportion  of  another, 
are  in  themselves  equal. 

7.  Things  which  have  but  half  the  proportion  of  other 
equal  things,  are  in  themselves  equal. 

We  have  thus  given  the  outline  of  this  useful  science, 
but  its  principles  may  be  best  known  by  attentive  study 
of  the  Elements  of  Euclid.  This  most  renowned  of  ma- 
thematicians was  born  at  Alexandria,  in  Egypt,  where 
he  taught  his  favourite  science  with  great  reputation  in 
the  reign  of  Ptolemy  Lagos,  about  280  years  before 
Christ.  He  reduced  to  order  the  fundamental  principles 
of  pure  mathematics,  which  had  been  delivered  down  by 
Thales,  Pythagoras,  and  Euxodus,  and  added  many 
others  of  his  own,  on  which  account  to  him  is  attributed 
the  honour  of  reducing  arithmetic  and  geometry  to  the 
form  of  sciences. 


GEOGRAPHY  AND  ASTRONOMY. 


215 


CHAR  VIII. 

GEOGRAPHY  AND  ASTRONOMY. 

The  science  of  geography  chiefly  consists  in  a  descrip* 
tion  of  the  surface  of  the  terrestrial  globe,  which  is 
naturally  composed  of  two  parts,  land  and  water,  and  is 
therefore  called  the  terraqueous  globe.  Each  of  these 
elements  are  subdivided  into  various  parts,  and  are  distin* 
guished  by  different  names,  viz.  the  earth  into  continents, 
islands,  peninsulas,  isthmus's,  and  promontories  or  capes; 
the  waters  into  oceans,  seas,  straits,  bays  orgulphs,  lakes, 
and  rivers. 

The  terrestrial  globe  is  360  degrees  in  circumference, 
every  degree  being  60  geographical  miles;  so  that  the 
whole  circuit  is  21,600  such  miles;  and  if  the  diameter 
was  a  third  part  of  the  circumference,  the  diameter  would 
be  7,200  miles;  but  the  diameter  is  as  7  to  22,  which 
makes  it  something  less  than  a  third  part  of  the  circum- 
ference. If  we  reduce  the  geographical  miles  to  English 
miles,  the  circumference  of  the  earth  will  be  about 
24,000  miles,  and  the  diameter  8000. 

The  terrestrial  globe  rests  upon  nothing,  but  appears 
equally  surrounded  by  the  heavens  on  every  side  ;  for  the 
better  understanding  whereof,  it  will  be  necessary  to  ob- 
serve the  several  imaginary  circles  described  on  the  arti* 
flcial  globe,  viz.  1.  The  equator,  and  the  circles  parallel 
to  it. — 2.  The  first  meridian,  and  the  rest  of  the  meridional 
lines. — 3.  The  zodiac,  which  includes  the  ecliptic. — 4. 
The  horizon. — 5.  The  two  tropics. — 6.  The  arctic  and 
antarctic  circles.  It  is  supposed  also,  that  a  line  passes 
through  the  centre  of  the  globe,  called  its  axis,  round 
which  it  moves  every  24  hours,  the  ends  of  which  axis 
are  called  the  poles  of  the  earth,  that  in  the  north  called 
the  arctic  or  north  pole,  from  a  star  in  the  heavens  oppo- 
site to  it,  which  forms  part  of  the  constellation  called  the 
Little  Bear,  and  that  in  the  south  called  the  antarctic  or 
south  pole,  as  diametrically  opposite  to  the  other. 

By  the  equator  the  globe  is  divided  into  two  equal 
parts  or  hemispheres,  and  on  this  circle  are  marked  the 


%\6 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


degrees  of  longitude,  from  the  first  meridian,  either  east 
or  west.  The  parallel  circles  are  so  called  from  their 
running  parallel  to  the  equator,  of  which  there  are  nine 
in  number  inclusive  between  the  equator,  and  either  pole, 
ten  degrees  distant  from  each  other,  every  degree  of  lati- 
tude being  60  geographical  miles,  and  every  ten  degrees 
600  such  miles.  Consequently  it  is  5,400  miles  from  the 
equator  to  either  pole,  which  is  one  quarter  of  the  cir- 
cumference of  the  globe. 

The  first  meridian  is  represented  by  the  brazen  circle  in 
which  the  globe  moves,  dividing  it  into  the  eastern  and 
western  hemispheres,  on  which  circle  are  marked  the 
degrees  of  latitude,  which  are  counted  northward  from 
the  equator  to  the  north  pole,  and  southward  from  the 
equator  to  the  south  pole. 

Where  the  meridional  lines  are  24  in  number,  they  are 
15  degrees,  or  one  hour  asunder;  those  who  live  under 
the  meridian  line  on  the  right  hand,  that  is,  to  the  east- 
ward of  the  first  meridian,  have  the  sun  an  hour  before 
us  ;  and  those  who  live  under  the  meridional  line  on  tfas 
left  hand,  that  is,  west  of  us,  have  the  sun  an  hour  after 
us ;  and  this  shews  wThat  is  meant  by  eastern  and  western 
longitude.  And  as  longitude  is  nothing  more  than  thb 
distance  any  place  is  east  or  west  of  the  first  meridian,  so 
latitude  is  the  distance  a  place  is  from  the  equator,  north 
or  south.  If  it  be  north  of  the  equator,  it  is  called  north 
latitude;  and  if  it  be  south  of  the  equator,  it  is  called 
south  latitude. 

The  first  meridian  in  the  old  maps  was  placed  either  at 
TenerifFe,  one  of  the  Canary  Isles,  17  degrees  west  of 
London,  or  at  Ferro,  another  of  the  Canary  Isles,  19 
degrees  west  of  London.  But  every  nation  almost  at 
this  day  places  the  first  meridian  at  their  respective 
capital  cities  in  their  several  maps.  In  English  maps 
London  is  made  the  first  meridian.  And  in  English  maps 
the  upper  end  is  always  the  north,  the  lower  end  the 
south  ;  the  right  hand  east,  and  the  left  hand  west ;  the 
degrees  of  longitude  being  marked  at  the  top  and  bottom 
of  each  map,  and  the  degrees  of  latitude  on  the  sides  of 
the  map. 

The  zodiac  is  that  circle  which  cuts  the  equator  ob- 
liquely and  is  divided  into  twelve  signs,  through  which 


QBOaRAPHY  AND  ASTRONOMY. 


217 


the  sun  seems  to  pass  within  the  space  of  12  months,  each 
sign  containing  30  degrees  of  longitude. 

The  ecliptic  is  a  line  passing  through  the  middle  of  the 
'  zodiac,  and  shews  the  sun's,  or  rather  the  earth's  path  or 
orbit,  in  which  it  moves  annually. 

The  horizon  is  the  broad  circle  in  which  the  globe 
stands,  dividing  it  into  the  upper  and  lower  hemispheres. 
The  place  where  any  one  stands,  is  the  centre  of  this 
horizon  and  hemisphere ;  the  sensible  horizon  seems  to 
touch  the  surface  of  the  earth,  and  is  the  utmost  limits  of 
our  sight,  upon  an  extensive  plain.  The  rational  horizon 
is  supposed  parallel  to  this,  and  to  be  extended  to  the 
heavens. 

The  poles  of  our  horizon  are  two  imaginary  points  in 
the  heavens,  called  the  zenith  and  nadir  ;  the  zenith  being 
the  vertical  point  directly  over  our  heads,  and  the  nadir 
that  point  of  the  heavens  under  our  feet,  diametrically 
opposite  to  the  zenith. 

As  the  earth  turns  round  upon  its  own  axis  every  24 
hours,  which  makes  day  and  night,  that  part  of  the 
heavens  which  was  over  our  heads  at  12  at  noon  must  of 
course  be  under  our  feet  at  12  at  night;  but  speaking 
properly,  no  part  of  the  earth  can  be  said  to  be  uppermost 
or  lowermost.  All  the  inhabitants  of  the  earth  seem  to 
have  the  earth  under  their  feet,  and  the  heavens  over 
their  heads,  and  ships  sail  with  their  bottoms  to  each 
other. 

The  tropics  shew  how  far  the  sun,  or  rather  the  earth, 
proceeds  north  or  south  of  the  equator  every  year.  The 
tropic  of  Cancer  surrounds  the  globe  23 £  degrees  north  of 
the  equator,  and  the  tropic  of  Capricorn  23£  south  of  the 
equator. 

The  polar  circles  are  drawn  23}  degrees  distant  from 
each  pole,  and  66|r  distant  from  the  equator* 

The  earth  is  divided  into  five  zones,  viz.  the  torrid  zone, 
the  two  frigid  zones,  and  the  two  temperate  zones,  and 
are  denominated  zones,  because  they  encompass  the  earth 
like  a  girdle. 

The  torrid  zone  lies  between  the  two  tropics,  and  is  so 
denominated  from  the  excessive  heat  of  the  climate,  the 
sun  passing  over  it  twice  everv  vear. 

19 


SIS  YOUftG  MAS'S  SOOfc  Of  KNOWLEDGE, 

The  two  frigid  zones  lie  withirvtbe  polar  circles,  and 
are  so  called  from  the  excessive  cold  within  these  circles. 

The  northern  temperature  zone  lies  between  the  tropic 
of  Cancel'  and  the  arctic  circle ;  and  the  southerntemperate 
zone,  between  the  tropic  of  Capricorn  and  the  antarctic 
circle. 

What  is  generally  understood  by  the  elevation  of  the 
pole,  is  the  height  of  the  pole  above  the  horizon,  and  is 
always  equal  to  the  latitude  of  any  place,  as  the  South  of 
England  lies  in  50  degrees  north  latitude,  so  the  north 
pole  must  of  course  be  elevated  50  degrees  above  the  ho- 
rizon there ;  for  which  reason,  the  latitude  of  a  place,  and 
the  elevation  of  the  pole,  are  used  promiscuously  to  ex- 
press the  same  thing. 

The  brazen  horary  circle,  fixed  on  every  globe  with  an 
index,  shews  how  many  hours,  and  consequently  how 
many  degrees,  any  place  is  east  or  west  of  another  place ; 
for  as  every  15  degrees  east  or  west  is  an  hour,  so  every 
hour  is  15  degrees. 

The  quadrant  of  altitude  is  a  pliant  brass  plate  divided 
into  90  degrees,  one  fourth  of  the  circumference  of  the 
globe,  by  which  the  distances  of  places  may  be  found,  and 
man}'  useful  problems  resolved. 

The  inhabitants  of  the  e?athare  distinguished  in  regard 
to  their  respective  situations,  and  are  denominated  either 
Periaeci,  Antseci,  or  Antipodes. 

The  Periseci  are  situate  under  the  same  parallel,  but 
opposite  meridians  :  It  is  midnight  with  one  when  it  is 
noon  with  the  other,  but  the  length  of  their  days  and  their 
seasons  are  the  same ;  these  are  found  by  turning  the 
horary  index  twelve  hours,  or  turning  the  globe  half 
round. 

Antseci  are  situate  under  the  same  meridian,  but  op- 
posite parallels ;  these  have  the  seasons  opposite  to  ours, 
and  the  same  length  of  days  ;  but  when  their  days  are 
longest,  ours  are  shortest.  These  are  found  by  num- 
bering as  many  degrees  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  equa- 
tor as  we  are  on  this. 

The  Antipodes  lie  under  opposite  meridians,  and  oppo- 
site parallels ;  these  have  different  seasons,  and  their  noon- 
day is  our  midnight,  and  their  longest  day  our  shortest : 
These  are  found  by  turning  the  horary  index  12  hours 


GEOttltAl* HV  ANti  ASTRONOMY. 


from  the  given  place,  or  turning  the  globe  half  round,  and 
then  counting  as  many  degrees  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
equator  as  the  given  place  is  on  this* 

The  inhabitants  of  the  earth  are  also  distinguished  by 
their  different  shadows  at  noon-day,  and  are  denominated 
either  Amphiscii,  Ascii,  Heteroscii,  or  Periscii. 

The  Amphiscii  inhabit  the  torrid  zone,  and  have  their 
noonday  shadows  both  north  and  south  :  When  the  sun 
is  south  of  them,  then  their  shadows  are  north,  and  when 
the  sun  is  north  of  them,  their  shadows  are  south;  these 
are  also  called  Ascii,  because  the  sun  is  vertical  twice 
every  year  at  noon-day,  and  then  they  have  no  shadow. 

The  Heteroscii,  who  inhabit  the  temperate  zones,  have 
their  shadows  always  one  way  at  noon-day.  In  the 
northern  temperate  zone  their  shadows  are  always  north ; 
and  in  the  southern  temperate  zone,  their  shadows  are 
always  south  at  noon-day. 

The  Periscii  inhabit  within  the  polar  circles,  and  have 
their  shadows  every  way,  the  sun  being  above  their  hori- 
zon all  the  24  hours,  several  months  in  the  year,  viz. 
when  it  is  on  the  same  side  of  the  equator  the}'  were  of : 
and  if  there  were  any  inhabitants  at  either  of  the  poles, 
they  would  have  but  one  day  of  six  months,  and  one 
night  of  the  same  length. 

Climates  are  spaces  on  the  surface  of  the  globe,  bound- 
ed by  imaginary  circles  parallel  to  the  equator,  so  broad 
that  the  length  of  the  day  in  one  exceeds  that  of  another 
half  an  hour,  of  which  there  are  60  in  number,  viz.  24 
from  the  equator  to  each  of  the  polar  circles,  and  six  from 
either  of  the  polar  circles  to  the  respective  poles,  between 
which  last,  there  is  a  difference  of  an  entire  month  ;  the 
sun  appearing  in  the  first  one  month  above  the  horizon 
without  setting,  in  the  second  two  months,  and  so  on  to 
the  pole,  where  there  is  a  day  of  six  months,  and  the 
nights  proportionable,  when  the  sun  is  on  the  opposite 
fide  of  the  equator. 

These  climates  are  not  of  an  equal  breadth,  those  near 
the  equator  being  much  the  broadest :  For  example,  the 
first  climate  next  the  equator  is  eight  degrees,  odd  mi- 
nutes, in  breadth,  whereas  the  11th  climate  is  little  more 
than  two  degrees  broad. 

The  en  \  of  one  climate  is  the  beginning  of  the  next — 


220 


YOUNG  MAN'fi  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


At  the  first  climate,  which  begins  at  the  equator,  the  day 
is  just  twelve  hours  long  at  the  beginning  of  the  climate, 
and  12  hours  30  minutes  at  the  end  of  it,  viz.  in  8  degrees 
25  minutes  of  latitude,  where  the  second  climate  begins. 

Every  degree  of  latitude  contains  60  geographical 
miles. 

Every  degree  of  longitude  counted  on  the  equator,  also 
is  60  geographical  miles ;  but  as  the  meridional  lines  ap- 
proach nearer  each  other  as  you  advance  towards  either 
pole,  consequently  the  number  of  miles  between  those 
lines  must  lessen  in  proportion  ;  as,  for  instance,  a  degree 
of  longitude  in  52  degrees  of  latitude  contains  but  37 
miles,  though  it  be  full  60  miles  upon  the  equator. 

The  inhabitants  of  the  earth  are  sometimes  distinguish- 
ed according  to  the  various  positions  of  their  horizon,  as 
they  are  situate  in  a  right  sphere,  a  parallel  sphere,  or  an 
oblique  sphere. 

In  a  right  sphere  the  equator  passes  through  the  zenith 
and  nadir,  and  the  parallel  circles  fall  perpendicularly  on 
the  horizon,  which  is  the  case  of  those  people  who  live 
under  the  equinoctial  line. 

In  a  parallel  sphere  the  poles  are  in  the  zenith  and 
nadir ;  the  equator  is  parallel  to,  and  coincides  with  the 
horizon,  and  the  parallel  circles  are  parallel  to  the  horizon, 
which  can  only  be  said  of  people  under  either  pole. 

In  an  oblique  sphere  the  inhabitants  have  one  of  the 
poles  above  and  the  other  under  the  horizon,  and  the 
equator  and  parallel  circles  cutting  the  horizon  obliquely, 
as  is  the  case  of  all  people  that  do  not  live  under  the 
equinoctial  line. 

To  rectify  the  globe,  in  order  to  find  the  true  situation  of 
anyplace, 

Let  the  globe  be  set  upon  a  level  table,  and  the  brazen 
meridian  stand  due  north  and  south,  then  bring  the  given 
place  to  the  brazen  meridian,  and  let  there  be  90  degrees 
between  that  place  and  the  horizon  both  north  and  south, 
and  the  given  place  will  be  in  the  zenith;  the  globe  being 
thus  rectified,  you  may  proceed  to  solve  any  problem. 


GEOGRAPHY  AND  ASTRONQMYi 


221 


To  find  the  longitude  and  latitude  of  a  given  place. 

The  longitude  of  any  place  will  be  found  by  number- 
ing on  the  equator  so  many  degrees  as  the  place  lies  east 
or  west  of  the  first  meridian  :  And  the  latitude  will  be 
found  by  counting  so  many  degrees  on  the  brazen  me- 
ridian as  the  place  lies  north  or  south  of  the  equator. — 
You  must  turn  the  globe,  therefore,  either  east  or  west,  till 
t  he  given  place  is  brought  to  the  brazen  meridian,  and 
you  will  see  the  degree  of  longitude  marked  on  the 
equator;  and  the  latitude  is  found  at  the  same  time,  only 
by  numbering  the  degrees  on  the  brazen  meridian  either 
north  or  south  of  the  equator,  till  you  come  to  the  given 
place. 

To  find  ichat  places  are  under  the  same  meridian  icith  the 
given  'place. 

Bring  the  given  place  to  the  brazen  meridian,  and  ob- 
serve what  places  lie  under  that  meridian  either  north  or 
south  of  the  equator. 

To  find  what  places  have  the  same  latitude. 

Turn  the  globe  round,  and  observe  on  the  brazen  me- 
ridian what  places  come  under  the  same  degree  of  latitude 
as  the  given  place  is. 

To  find  the  sun1  s  place  in  the  ecliptic  at  any  time  of  the  year. 

When  you  know  the  month,  and  day  of  the  month, 
you  will  find  upon  the  wooden  horizon  the  sign  in  which 
the  sun  is  opposite  to  the  day  of  the  month,  which  is  the 
sun's  place  in  the  ecliptic  at  that  time. 

To  know  the  length  of  the  days  at  any  time,  and  at  any 
place. 

Bring  the  given  place  to  the  zenith  ;  then  bring  the 
sun's  place  in  the  ecliptic  to  the  east  side  of  the  horizon, 
and  set  the  index  of  the  hour  circle  to  12  at  noon,  or  the 
upper  figure  of  12,  and  turn  the  globe  till  the  said  place 
in  the  ecliptic  touch  the  western  side  of  the  horizon,  and 
IP* 


222         young  man's  book  of  knowledge. 

the  number  of  hours  between  the  upper  figure  of  12,  and 
the  hour  the  index  points  to,  to  shew  how  many  hours  the 
day  is  long,  and  consequently  the  length  of  the  night ; 
because  so  many  hours  as  the  day  falls  short  of  24,  must 
be  the  length  of  the  night ;  as  when  the  day  is  16  hours 
long,  the  night  must  of  course  be  8  hours  long. 

To  find  those  places  on  the  globe  where  the  sun  is  in  the 
meridian  at  any  time. 

The  globe  being  rectified,  and  the  place  where  you  are 
brought  to  the  brazen  meridian,  set  the  index  of  the  ho- 
rary circle  at  the  hour  of  the  day  at  that  place,  then  turn 
the  globe  till  the  index  points  to  the  upper  12,  and  you 
will  see  all  those  places  where  the  sun  is  in  the  meridian  ; 
as  for  example,  if  it  be  1 1  in  the  morning  at  London,  and 
you  set  the  index  at  11,  turn  the  globe  till  the  index 
points  at  the  upper  12,  and  you  will  find  Naples,  which 
is  an  hour  or  15  degrees  east  of  London  ;  and  in  all 
places  under  the  same  meridian  as  Naples  is,  it  must 
consequently  be  12  at  noon  at  that  time. 

In  like  manner,  if  it  be  4  in  the  afternoon  at  London, 
and  you  set  the  index  at  4,  and  turn  the  globe  till  the 
index  points  at  the  upper  12,  you  will  find  Barbadoes, 
which  is  four  hours  or  60  degrees  west  of  London  ;  and 
at  all  places  under  the  same  meridian  as  Barbadoes  is,  it 
must  consequently  be  12  at  noon  at  that  time. 

To  find  where  the  sun  is  vertical  at  any  time  of  the  year. 

The  sun  can  only  be  vertical  in  such  places  as  lie  be- 
tween the  tropics  ;  and,  to  know  this,  you  are  only  to  find 
what  place  the  sun  is  in  the  ecliptic,  and  bringing  that 
place  to  the  brazen  meridian,  observe  what  degree  of 
latitude  it  has  ;  for  in  all  places  in  that  latitude  the  sun 
will  be  vertical  that  day,  and  you  will  find  all  those 
places  only  by  turning  the  globe  round,  and  observing 
them  as  they  come  to  the  brazen  meridian. 

To  find  where  the  sun  is  above  the  horizon,  or  shines 
without  setting  all  the  24  hours,  in  the  'northern  hemi- 
sphere. 

The  day  given  must  be  when  the  sun  is  in  the  northern 


GEOGRAPHY  AND  ASTRONOMY. 


223 


signs,  and,  having  found  the  sun's  place  in  the  ecliptic, 
you  must  bring  that  place  to  the  brazen  meridian ;  then 
count  the  same  number  of  degrees  from  the  north  pole 
towards  the  equator,  as  there  is  between  the  equator  and 
the  sun's  place  in  the  ecliptic  ;  then  turn  the  globe  round; 
and  in  all  the  places  passing  under  the  last  degree  count- 
ed fom  the  north  pole,  the  sun  begins  to  shine  constantly, 
without  setting  on  the  given  day;  and  the  rule  will  serve 
vice  versa  for  any  place  in  the  southern  hemisphere 
when  the  sun  is  in  the  northern  signs. 

To  find  the  length  of  the  longest  and  shortest  days  and 
nights  at  any  'place  in  the  northern  hemisphere. 

Rectify  the  globe  according  to  the  latitude  of  the  given 
place,  or.  which  is  the  same  thing,  bring  the  given  place 
to  the  zenith,  then  bring  the  first  degree  of  Cancer  to  the 
east  side,  of  the  horizon,  and  setting  the  index  of  the  hour 
circle  to  the  upper  figure  of  12,  turn  the  globe  till  the 
sign  of  Cancer  touch  the  west  side  of  the  horizon,  and 
observe  the  number  of  hours  between  the  upper  figure  of 
12  and  the  hour  the  index  points  to,  and  that  is  the  length 
of  the  longest  day,  and  the  shortest  night  consequently 
consists  of  so  many  hours  as  the  day  falls  short  of  24  ; 
and  as  for  the  length  of  the  days  and  nights  in  the  south- 
ern latitude,  they  are  just  the  reverse  of  those  in  the 
northern  latitude. 

To  find  in  what  place  the  sun  is  rising  of  setting,  or  in 
its  meridian ;  or  what  parts  of  the  earth  are  enlightened 
at  any  particular  time. 

First  find  where  the  sun  is  vertical  at  the  given  hour, 
and  bring  that  place  to  the  zenith,  under  the  brazen  me- 
ridian ;  then  observe  what  places  are  in  the  eastern  semi- 
circle of  the  horizon,  for  there  the  sun  is  setting,  and  in 
those  places  in  the  western  semicircle  of  the  horizon  the 
sun  is  rising,  and  in  all  places  under  the  brazen  meridian 
it  is  noon  day  :  all  those  places  in  the  upper  hemisphere 
of  the  globe  are  enlightened,  and  those  in  the  lower  he- 
misphere are  in  darkness.. 


224 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE, 


To  find  the  distance  of  one  place  from  another  upon  the 
globe. 

If  both  places  lie  under  the  same  meridian  bring  them 
to  the  brazen  meridian,  and  count  thereon  how  many 
degrees  of  latitude  the  two  places  are  from  each  other, 
which,  being  reduced  to  units,  is  the  true  distance  :  every 
degree  of  altitude  containing  60  geographical  miles,  as 
has  been  observed  already ;  and  60  geographical  miles 
make  near  70  English  miles.  If  the  two  places  lie  under 
the  same  parallel  of  latitude,  then  observe  on  the  equator 
how  many  degrees  of  longitude  they  are  asunder,  and 
observe  how  many  miles  a  degree  of  longitude  makes  in 
that  latitude ;  and  then  numbering  the  degrees  of  longi- 
tude on  the  equator,  reduce  them  to  miles,  and  that  will 
give  the  distance  of  the  two  places.  For  instance,  sup- 
pose Rotterdam  lies  in  52  degrees  of  north  latitude,  and 
4  degrees  of  eastern  longitude,  and  Pymont  lies  under 
the  same  parallel  5  degrees  east  of  Rotterdam,  and  I  find 
that  every  degree  of  longitude  in  this  latitude  makes  37 
miles,  then  I  multiply  37  by  5,  which  makes  185,  being 
the  number  of  miles  between  Rotterdam  and  Pymont. 

Where  the  two  places  differ  both  in  longitude  and  lati- 
tude, the  distance  may  be  found  by  measuring  the  number 
of  degrees  they  are  asunder  by  the  quadrant  of  altitude, 
and  reducing  those  degrees  to  miles.  For  example,  if  we 
find  the  two  places  are  the  length  of  10  degrees  asunder 
by  the  quadrant,  they  must  necessarily  be  600  miles  dis- 
tant from  each  other ;  because  60  miles,  which  is  the  ex- 
tent of  1  degree  of  latitude,  multiplied  by  10,  makes  600 
miles  on  the  globe,  in  whatever  direction  one  place  lies 
from  another,  as  the  north,  east,  south,  west,  &c. 

To  find  how  one  place  bears  off  another ;  that  is,  whether 
it  lies  north-east,  south-west,  or  any  other  point  of  the 
compass  from  another  place. 

Bring  one  of  the  places  to  the  zenith,  and  fix  the 
quadrant  of  altitude  there;  then  extend  it  to  the  other 
place  whose  bearing  you  would  know,  and  the  lower 
part  of  the  quadrant  will  intersect  the  wooden  horizon  at 


GEOGRAPHY  AND  ASTRONOMY. 


225 


the  point  of  the  compass  inscribed  on  the  wooden  horizon, 
which  is  the  true  bearing  of  the  given  place. 

To  find  on  what  point  of  the  compass  the  sun  rises  or  sets 
at  any  place. 

Bring  the  given  place  to  the  zenith,  and,  having  found 
the  sun's  place  in  the  ecliptic,  bring  the  same  to  the 
eastern  side  of  the  horizon,  and  it  will  shew  on  what 
point  of  the  compass  the  sun  rises.  On  the  other  hand, 
if  you  bring  the  sun's  place  in  the  ecliptic  to  the  west 
side  of  the  horizon,  it  will  shew  on  wha£  point  of  the 
compass  the  sun  sets. 

The  world  is  divided  into  four  quarters,  viz.  Europe, 
Asia,  Africa,  and  America. 

The  population  of  the  globe  is  computed  at  953  mil- 
lions. In  Russia  there  are  17  inhabitants  to  each  square 
mile;  in  Italy,  170;  and  in  the  Netherlands,  275.  This 
great  disproportion  arises  from  the  difference  with  respect 
to  climate,  agriculture,  and  commerce. 

Europe,  the  most  eminent  part  of  the  globe  with  re- 
spect to  literature,  arts,  sciences,  and  commerce,  is  far  the 
least  in  point  of  extent.  It  is  about  3000  miles  long, 
2,500  broad,  and  its  area,  according  to  Terr^leman's  sur- 
vey, is  258,000  miles. 

It  lies  almost  entirely  in  the  northern  temperate  zone; 
a  small  part  of  it  at  the  northern  extremity  is  extended 
beyond  the  arctic  circle,  but  it  does  not  approach  nearer 
to  the  equator  than  35^  degrees.  On  the  east  and  south- 
east, it  is  bounded  by  Asia  ;  on  the  west,  north-west,  and 
south-west,  by  the  Atlantic  Ocean  ;  and  on  the  south  by 
the  Mediterranean  Sea.  The  number  of  inhabitants  is 
computed  to  amount  to  153  millions.  It  is  the  most  po- 
pulous of  all  the  quarters  of  the  globe,  in  proportion  to  its 
size,  and  enjoys  the  most  uniform  temperature  of  climate; 
the  soil  is  well  adapted  to  tillage  or  pasturage,  yields  a 
copious  supply  of  the  necessaries  of  life,  and  its  mines 
produce  the  most  useful  metals.  The  character  of  the 
Europeans  seems  to  partake  the  advantages  of  the  cli- 
mate, and  is  remarkable,  particularly  in  the  more  northern 
parts,  for  the  ingenuity,  industry,  and  enterprising  temper 
of  the  natives.    The  manufactures,  particularly  of  the 


226  YOUNG  MANJ3  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE, 


English  and  French,  are  conveyed  to  the  most  remote 
countries,  and  are  found  to  contribute  to  the  comfort  of 
all  nations.  Owing  to  the  influence  of  a  mild  and  bene- 
volent religion,  the  horrors  of  war  are  softened  ;  and  from 
the  prevalence  of  commerce,  a  more  general  and  more 
amicable  intercourse  is  carried  on  than  in  any  other  part 
of  the  globe. 

The  principal  divisions  of  Europe  are  as  follows  :  Eng- 
land, Scotland,  and  Ireland,  Spain,  Portugal,  France, 
Italy,  the  Austrian  Netherlands,  the  United  Provinces, 
Germany,  Bohemia,  Hungary,  Transylvania,  Sclavonia, 
Croatia,  Turkey  in  Europe,  Poland,  Prussia,  Russia, 
Sweden,  Denmark,  and  Norway.  The  independent  states 
are  the  United  Kingdoms  of  Great-Britain  and  Ireland, 
France,  Russia,  the  larger  part  of  Germany,  Prussia, 
Sweden,  and  Denmark  and  Norway.  Many  of  the 
minor  states  have  long  been  in  an  unsettled  and  pre- 
carious condition,  the  crowned  gamblers  on  the  field  of 
political  aggrandisement,  regarding  them  but  as  mere 
11  make  weights"  in  adjusting  the  great  balance  of  power. 

The  British  dominions  formerly  included  several  pro- 
vinces in  France.  They  now  comprehend  England, 
Wales,  Scotland,  and  Ireland;  the  Isles  of  Wight,  Scilly, 
Man,  Jersey,  Guernsey,  Alderney,  and  Sark ;  Gibraltar 
in  Spain — Malta  in  the  Mediterranean  Sea — Jamaica, 
Barbadoes,  St.  Christopher's,  Antigua,  Nevis,  Montserrat, 
Dominica,  Martinico,  St.  Vincent,  Grenada,  &c.  &c.  in 
the  West  Indies — the  Island  of  St.  Helena,  settlements 
upon  the  coast  of  Africa,  and  extensive  territories  in  the 
East  Indies — the  provinces  of  Nova  Scotia,  Canada,  and 
New  Britain,  in  North  America;  as  well  as  Newfound, 
land,  Cape  Breton,  St.  John's,  the  Bermudas  or  Somer's 
Islands,  and  the  Lucayos  or  Bahama  Islands,  upon  the 
coast  of  North  America.  To  these  may  be  added  the 
settlement  of  Botany  Bay  upon  the  coast  of  New  Holland, 
and  Norfolk  Island  in  the  South  Pacific  Ocean. 

The  extent  of  England  is  320  miles  from  north  to 
South,  that  is,  from  Berwick  upon  Tweed  to  the  Isle  of 
Wight ;  and  285  miles  from  east  to  west,  that  is,  from 
the  South  Foreland,  in  Kent,  to  the  Land's  End,  in 
Cornwall.  It  contains  40  counties,  and  12,000,000  in- 
habitants. 


GEOGRAPHY 


A.ND  ASTRONOMY. 


227 


Wales,  divided  into  North  and  South,  is  130  miles 
long,  and  87  broad.  It  contains  12  counties,  and  about 
500,000  inhabitants. 

Scotland,  exclusive  of  its  numerous  islands,  is  270 
miles  long,  from  the  Mull  of  Galloway,  in  the  south,  to 
Cape  Wrath,  in  the  north;  and  140  miles  from  east  to 
west,  in  the  broadest  part.  It  contains  13  shires  north, 
and  18  shires  south  of  the  river  Tay,  and  about  two 
millions  and  a  half  of  inhabitants. 

Ireland  is  285  miles  from  north  to  south,  and  180  from 
east  to  west,  in  the  broadest  part.  It  is  divided  into  four 
provinces,  and  32  counties,  and  contains  about  seven  mil- 
lions of  inhabitants. 

England,  Wales,  Scotland,  and  Ireland,  constituting 
the  United  Kingdom  of  England  and  Ireland,  are  repre- 
sented in  the  Imperial  Parliament  by  the  following  pro- 
portions of  members:  England  and  Wales  send  513 
members,  Scotland  45,  Ireland  100,  making  the  House  of 
Commons  amount  in  all  to  658.  Scotland  sends  twelve 
peers  to  the  House  of  Lords,  and  Ireland  thirty-two;  but 
the  English  peers,  who  are  members  of  that  house,  are 
unlimited. 

Asia  has  been  renowned  in  history  from  the  beginning 
of  time.  There  the  all- wise  Creator  planted  the  Garden 
of  Eden,  and  placed  in  it  the  first  parents  of  the  human 
race.  After  the  deluge  it  became  again  the  nursery  of 
the  world.  There  the  sons  of  Noah  dwelt,  and  colonies 
went  forth  to  people  the  globe ;  there  the  Redeemer  of 
mankind  appeared,  to  preach  the  gospel  of  life  and  im- 
mortality. In  Asia,  the  ancient  monarchies  of  Assyria 
and  of  Persia  were  erected.  It  is  much  larger  than  either 
Europe  or  Africa;  it  is  about  48,000  miles  in  length,  and 
43,000  in  breadth,  and  contains  an  area  of  8  millions  of 
miles.  Except  China,  and  the  greater  part  of  Hindoo- 
stan,  it  is  thinly  inhabited.  The  population  is  computed 
to  amount  to  five  hundred  millions.  The  soil  is  rich ; 
and  it  produces  corn  in  the  greatest  abundance,  the  most 
delicious  fruits,  plants, drugs,  and  gums:  and  in  its  mines 
are  found  diamonds,  gold,  silver,  copper,  and  iron.  The 
difference  of  climate,  manners,  and  productions,  is  so 
strongly  marked,  that  they  cannot  be  included  under  one 
description.   No  objects  which  it  presents  are  more  inte- 


228        toung  man's  book  of  knowledge. 

resting  to  us  than  the  Chinese  empire,  and  the  British 
territories  in  Hindoostan. 

Africa  is  separated  from  Europe  by  the  Mediterranean 
Sea,  and  is  united  to  Asia  by  the  isthmus  of  Suez.  It  is 
much  larger  than  Europe,  but  less  than  either  Asia  or 
America.  It  is  not  broken,  like  Europe  and  the  south  of 
Asia,  into  several  irregular  tracts  of  land  by  the  interposi- 
tion of  the  sea,  but  has  the  appearance  of  an  uniform  and 
vast  peninsula.  The  once  populous  and  commercial 
coast  of  the  Mediterranean,  formerly  the  seat  of  the  pow- 
erful empire  of  Carthage,  now  contains  only  the  small 
piratical  states  of  Barbary*  A  very  large  portion  of 
Africa  lies  between  the  tropics,  and  is  exposed  to  exces- 
sive heat.  This  is  the  part  which  produces  most  gold  and 
aromatic  drugs,  and  where  lions,  tigers,  and  elephants 
abound.  The  inhabitants  are  either  tawny  Moors,  or 
negroes  of  different  shades  and  features.  The  interior  of 
Africa  is  no  otherwise  known  than  from  the  accounts  of 
a  few  travellers,  or  the  vague  reports  of  the  tribes  that 
live  near  the  coasts. 

America,  or  the  New  World,  is  between  eight  and 
nine  thousand  miles  in  length,  and  in  some  parts  nearly 
3690  miles  in  breadth;  it  enjoys  all  the  variety  of  climates, 
and  occupies  a  considerable  part  of  both  hemispheres,  and 
is  not  much  inferior  in  dimensions  to  a  third  part  of  the 
habitable  globe.  The  eastern  shores  are  washed  by  the 
Atlantic  and  Southern  Oceans,  and  the  western  by  the 
Pacific  Ocean.  It  consists  of  two  great  continents, 
distinguished  by  the  names  of  North  and  South  America. 
These  are  connected  by  the  isthmus  of  Darien,  nearly 
360  miles  in  length,  but  not  more  than  16  miles  broad  in 
the  narrowest  part.  In  the  gulph  bounded  by  the 
northern  and  southern  continents,  lie  numerous  islands, 
which  are  called  the  West  Indies,  to  distinguish  them 
from  the  countries  on  the  eastern  coasts  of  Asia,  which 
are  called  the  East  Indies. 

North  America  is  divided  into  the  provinces  of  Nova 
Scotia,  Canada,  and  New  Britain,  belonging  to  Great 
Britain  ;  the  twenty-four  United  States,  Louisiana,  lately 
purchased  by  them  of  the  French  ;  East  and  West  Flori- 
da, California,  and  Mexico,  or  New  Spain,  recently  be- 
longing to  Spain.  The  inland  country,  much  of  which  is 


GEOGRAPH  Y  AND  ASTRO? 0>i  V. 


229 


unexplored,  is  still  occupied  in  many  parts  by  the  Indian 
tribes. 

The  colonies  of  South  America,  still  more  extensive, 
remained,  until  recently  in  the  possession  of  Spain  and 
Portugal ;  while  these  states,  notwithstanding  the  vast 
revenues  which  they  derived  from  these  colonies,  have 
been  long  sinking  in  the  scale  of  European  importance. 
South  America  is  divided  into  seven  great  provinces  : 
Terra  Firma,  Peru,  Amazonia,  Brazil,  Paraguay,  Chili, 
and  Patagonia.  Peru,  the  richest  province  of  America, 
situated  on  the  southern  coast,  is  about  1400  miles  long, 
and  400  broad*  Its  chief  commodities  are  gold  and  silver, 
quicksilver,  pearls,  cotton,  tobacco,  cochineal,  and  drugs; 
quinquina,  or  the  Jesuit's  bark,  the  virtue  of  which  is  well 
known  all  over  Europe,  and  tobacco  of  the  finest  flavour, 
are  peculiar  to  this  country.  The  climate  of  Brazil  is 
temperate,  and  the  soil  fertile;  its  chief  commodities  are 
gold,  diamonds,  red  wood,  sugar,  amber,  &c.  It  was 
subject  to  the  king  of  Portugal,  who  drew  great  riches 
from  it. 

The  foregoing  is  a  very  imperfect  account  of  the  ter- 
raqueous globe  we  inhabit.  It  is  so  large  in  dimensions, 
that  Teneriffe  or  Mont  Blanc  are,  ,  compared  to  it,  but  as 
grains  of  dust  upon  an  artificial  sphere.  Its  diameter  is 
7970  miles,  and  its  surface  contains  199,557,250  square 
miles. 

Maps,  Charts,  fyc. — It  is  by  longitude  and  latitude  the 
situation  of  places  is  determined  and  described  by  the 
moderns.  A  true  map  of  the  world  can  only  be  deline- 
ated on  a  globe  or  ball.  Maps,  however,  are  projected, 
upon  different  principles,  on  plane  surfaces.  If  a  large 
space  be  described  on  one  of  these,  it  must  necessarily  be 
represented  in  a  distorted  manner;  but  the  distortion, 
however,  is  regular,  and  any  small  part  of  the  map  in 
tolerable  proportion  with  itself,  though  not  with  the 
whole. 

The  ancients  in  their  scanty  knowledge  of  geography, 
and  before  their  invention  of  the  manner  of  reckoning  by 
the  degrees  of  longitude  and  latitude,  contented  them- 
selves with  mentioning  the  climate  as  the  situation  of  a 
place. 

20 


I 


*v3l>  YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OP  KNOWLEDGE. 

Astronomers  mark  the  stars  of  every  constellation  on 
the  celestial  charts  and  globes  with  the  letters  of  the 
Greek  alphabet,  denoting  those  that  are  most  conspicuous 
by  a,  and  calling  them  of  the  first  magnitude  ;  the  next 
by  /3,  calling  them  of  the  second  magnitude;  and  so  on, 
in  succession,  to  stars  of  the  fifth  and  sixth  magnitude. 

Geographers  sometimes  place  the  compass  in  a  vacant 
part  of  a  map,  to  shew  the  bearings  of  the  different  places 
on  it,  the fieur  de  lis  always  pointing  towards  the  north; 
but,  in  maps  of  general  geography,  the  top  is  usually  the 
north ;  the  degrees  of  latitude  are  marked  on  the  sides, 
and  the  degress  of  longitude,  or  the  difference  of  time, 
along  the  top  and  bottom.  If  the  figures  along  the  sides 
increase  upwards,  the  country  delineated  is  in  north  lati- 
tude ;  if  downwards,  it  is  in  south  latitude  :  if  the  figures 
along  the  top  and  bottom  increase  from  right  to  left,  it  is 
in  western  longitude ;  if  from  left  to  right,  it  is  in  eastern 
longitude.  The  scales  in  maps  are  for  measuring  dis- 
tances. Towns  and  cities  are  represented  by  a  church, 
house,  castle,  or  other  building,  by  a  small  circle  ;  or,  if 
fortified,  by  an  indented  circle  or  oval.  Roads  are  ex- 
pressed by  double  lines  running  close  and  parallel  between 
towns  or  cities,  and  sometimes  by  single  ones,  the  figures 
along  them  telling  the  distance.  Rivers  are  represented 
by  black  lines,  small  near  their  source,  and  growing 
stronger  to  the  sea.  Mountains  are  sketched  on  a  map 
as  on  a  landscape.  Forests  and  woods  appear  like  little 
bushes.  Deserts  are  represented  by  small  dots.  Bogs 
or  morasses,  and  savannahs,  are  made  out  by  shades  of 
parallel  lines;  and  lakes  are  represented  by  a  darker 
shade.  The  dotted  lines  and  party-colours  in  maps  serve 
to  distinguish  one  country  from  another;  and  the  line 
which  represents  the  shore  is  strong  and  shaded,  or  rather 
lightened  off  into  the  water. 

In  topographical  maps,  or  delineations  of  small  or  par- 
tial tracts  of  country,  there  is  not  so  much  attention  paid 
to  having  the  north  to  the  top  ;  and  the  same  remark  ap- 
plies to  sea  charts. 

In  sea  charts  the  land  is  often  almost  blank,  while  the 
channels,  soundings,  rocks,  banks,  sands,  &c.  are  distinct- 
ly marked ;  and  the  shading  of  the  coast  is  the  reverse  of 
what  it  is  in  maps.    The  meridians  are  often  drawn  in 


GEOGRAPHY  AND  ASTRONOMY. 


231 


straight  and  parallel  lines;  and  the  lines  of  latitude  are 
also  straight  parallels  crossing  the  meridians  at  right  an- 
gles. This  is  called  Mercator's  projection.  The  points 
of  the  compass  are  also  frequently  repeated,  and  extended 
through  the  whole  chart,  to  shew  the  magnetic  points,  or 
the  variation  of  the  compass.  The  direction  of  winds, 
tides,  and  currents,  is  commonly  denoted  by  arrows. 
Banks,  sands,  and  shallows,  are  represented  by  small 
dots.  Rocks  are  represented  by  small  crosses,  or  some- 
times by  marks  representing  the  points  of  rocks.  Small 
an chors  denote  anchorage ;  and  figures  express  the  sound- 
ings in  fathoms. 


ASTRONOMY. 

This  science  is,  of  all  others,  the  most  sublime,  the 
most  beautiful,  and  the  most  interesting;  for  there  are  no 
persons  of  whatever  age,  to  whom  the  heavenly  bodies  are 
not  objects  of  curiosity.  The  certain  principles  upon 
which  it  rests,  are  proved  by  the  calculations  of  eclipses; 
as  the  astronomer  can  determine  not  only  that  the  lumi- 
naries of  day  and  night  will  be  darkened,  but  he  can 
pronounce  with  certainty  at  what  particular  point  of  time, 
and  to  what  particular  extent,  such  obscurations  will 
happen,  and  exactly  how  long  they  will  continue.  Some 
parts  of  astronomy  are  so  useful  to  mankind,  as  to  make 
the  cultivation  of  it  highly  necessary  :  accordingly  we 
may  find  traces  of  it  among  all  nations.  By  its  assist- 
ance, geographers  are  enabled  to  ascertain  the  true  figure 
and  size  of  the  earth,  and  the  situation  and  extent  of 
countries;  chronologists  can  compute  the  measure  of  the 
year ;  and  navigators  can  determine  the  longitude  of 
places,  and  direct  their  courses  through  the  trackless  and 
stormy  ocean,  with  correctness  and  safety.  This  science 
opens  to  our  view  the  solar  system  and  fixed  stars. 

Of  the  Solar  System. 

The  solar  system  which  the  moderns  have  adopted, 
was  taught  by  Pythagoras,  revived  by  Copernicus,  con- 


232 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


firmed  by  Galileo,  Kepler,  and  Descartes,  and  fully 
established  by  Sir  Isaac  Newton.  The  sun  is  placed  in 
the  centre  of  this  system,  from  which  it  never  moves;  but 
from  observations  made  upon  its  spots,  it  is  found  to  turn 
round  its  own  axis,  from  west  to  east,  in  about  twenty-five 
days.  The  planets,  called  primary,  revolve  round  the  sun 
at  unequal  distances ;  their  names  are  Mercury,  Venus,  the 
Earth,  Marsi  Jupiter,  Saturn,  and  the  Georgium  Sidus. 

The  two  planets  Ceres  and  Pallas,  lately  discovered 
by  Piazzi  and  Olbers,  two  foreign  astronomers,  may  be 
referred  to  the  solar  system,  but  their  orbits  have  not  yet 
been  determined  with  precision. 

To  this  system  belong  other  spherical  bodies  which 
move  round  their  respective  primary  planets  in  the  same 
manner  as  the  primary  planets  move  round  the  sun,  from 
the  west  to  east ;  except  those  of  the  Georgium  Sidus, 
which  appear  to  move  in  a  contrary  direction.  These  are 
called  secondary  planets,  satellites,  or  moons.  The  most 
conspicuous  is  the  moon,  which  moves  round  the  earth  in 
something  less  than  twenty-eight  days:  four  revolve 
round  Jupiter,  seven  round  Saturn,  and  six  round  the 
Georgium  Sidus. 


A  Table  of  the  Solar  System. 


Mean  diame- 

Mean distan- 

Daily rotations 

Time  of  revol- 

ters in  Eng- 

ces from  the 

round 

their 

ving 

round 

lish  miles. 

Sun. 

axes. 

the  Sun 

Millions  of 

D. 

H. 

M. 

D.  H. 

M. 

The  Sun 

883,240 

miles. 

25 

14 

8 

Mercury  

3,224 

37 

Unknown. 

83 

23 

16 

7,687 

68 

0 

23 

21 

224 

16 

49 

The  Earth  -  -  - 

7,911 

95 

1 

O 

0 

365 

5 

48 

The  Moon 

2,180 

95 

29 

17 

44 

4,189 

144 

0 

24 

39 

686 

23 

30 

89,170 

490 

0 

9 

55 

4332 

14 

27 

79,042 

900 

0 

10 

16 

10759 

1 

51 

Georgium  Sidus 

36,112 

1800 

Unknown. 

30737 

18 

0 

It  is  important  to  remark  the  distance  of  the  primary 
planets  from  the  sun,  and  of  the  secondary  planets  from 
their  primaries,  and  the  times  of  their  revolutions  ;  be- 
cause we  are  hence  led  to  see  more  clearly  the  excellence 
of  the  Copernican  system,  according  to  which  the  motions 
of  all  the  planets  are  regulated  by  one  general  law,  viz. 
the  squares  of  the  periodical  times  of  the  planets  are  to 


GEOGRAPHY  AND  ASTRONOMY, 


233 


each  other  as  the  cubes  of  their  mean  distances  from  the 
sun  :  and  the  same  law  is  established  with  respect  to  the 
secondaries  in  revolving  round  their  primaries. 

The  planets  are  retained  in  their  orbits  by  the  united 
operaiion  of  the  centripetal  force,  by  which  a  body  is 
attracted  to  the  centre  of  gravity,  and  the  centrifugal 
force,  by  which  it  endeavours  to  persevere  in  a  straight 
line.  These  two  powers,  mutually  balancing  each 
other,  like  action  and  re-action,  retain  the  planets  in  their 
orbits,  and  compel  them  to  make  their  respective  revo- 
lutions. 

The  mean  distance  of  the  moon  from  the  earth  is  about 
thirty  of  the  earth's  diameters,  or  240,000  miles.  The 
surface  of  the  moon  is  to  that  of  the  earth  nearly  as  I  to 
13  1-3,  and  their  respective  quantities  of  matter  nearly  as 
1  to  39.  The  sun  is  about  a  million  of  times  bigger  than 
the  earth. 

The  planets,  both  primary  and  secondary,  are  opaque 
bodies,  and  receive  all  their  light  from  the  sun,  and  make 
their  revolutions  round  it.  From  the  appearance  of  the 
bounds  of  light  and  shadow  upon  their  surface,  they  are 
concluded  to  be  spherical,  which  is  confirmed  by  many 
of  them  being  found  to  turn  periodically  on  their  axis. 

The  planet  Jupiter  is  surrounded  by  thin  substances, 
called  belts,  in  which  there  appear  so  many  changes,  that 
they  are  generally  thought  to  be  clouds,  for  some  of  them 
have  appeared  broken,  and  then  have  become  entirely 
invisible.  Saturn  is  surrounded  by  a  thin  broad  ring, 
which  appears  double  through  a  good  telescope.  There 
is  reason  to  believe  that  it  turns  round  its  axis ;  because, 
when  its  edge  only  is  visible  to  us,  it  appears  somewhat 
thicker  on  one  side  of  the  planet  than  on  the  other;  and 
the  thickest  edge  has  been  seen  on  different  sides  at  dif- 
ferent times. 

Each  of  the  primary  planets  moves  round  the  sun  in  a 
curve  line,  which  forms  an  ellipsis.  The  sun  is  placed 
in  one  of  the  foci.  The  point  of  the  line  in  which  the 
planet  approaches  nearest  to  the  sun  is  called  the  peri- 
helion ;  the  point  at  which  it  is  most  remote,  is  called  the 
aphelion.  Its  mean  distance  is  equal  to  half  the  sum  of 
its  greatest  and  least  distance  from  the  focus  in  which 
the  sun  is  placed. 

20* 


234 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE, 


Comets. 

Cornets  are  supposed  to  be  solid  opaque  bodies  of 
various  magnitudes,  with  long1  transparent  tales  resem- 
bling a  pale  flame,  and  issuing  from  the*  part  of  the 
comet  farthest  from  the  sun.  They  move  round  the  sun 
in  very  elliptic  orbits,  and  cross  the  orbits  of  the  planets 
in  all  directions.  From  the  curved  direction  of  their 
paths,  Newton  concludes,  that  when  they  disappear  they 
go  much  beyond  the  orbit  of  Jupiter ;  and  that,  in  their 
perihelion,  they  frequently  descend  within  the  orbits  of 
Mars  and  the  inferior  planets.  He  computed  the  heat  of 
the  comet  which  appeared  in  1680,  when  nearest  the  sun, 
to  be  2000  times  hotter  than  red  hot  iron,  and  that  it 
must  retain  its  heat  till  it  comes  round  again,  even  if  its 
period  should  be  more  than  20,000  years,  and  it  is  com- 
puted to  be  only  575. 

Of  the  Fixed  Stars. 

No  part  of  the  universe  affords  such  exalted  ideas  of 
the  structure  and  magnificence  of  the  heavens,  as  the 
consideration  of  the  number,  magnitude,  nature,  and  dis- 
tance of  the  fixed  stars.  We  admire,  indeed,  with  pro- 
priety, the  vast  bulk  of  our  own  globe  ;  but,  when  we 
consider  how  much  it  is  surpassed  by  most  of  the  heavenly 
bodies,  what  a  small  point  it  degenerates  into,  and  how 
little  more  even  the  vast  orbit  in  which  it  revolves  would 
appear,  when  seen  from  some  of  the  fixed  stars,  we  begin 
to  conceive  more  just  ideas  of  the  extent  of  the  universe, 
and  of  the  infinity  of  creation. 

The  fixed  stars  comprehend  all  the  celestial  objects, 
excepting  the  sun,  the  moon,  and  the  planets,  and  some 
comets  which  now  and  then  appear. 

The  stars,  on  account  of  their  apparently  various  mag- 
nitudes, have  been  distributed  into  various  classes  and 
orders.  Those  which  appear  largest,  are  called  stars  of 
the  first  magnitude ;  the  next  to  them  in  lustre,  stars  oj 
the  second  magnitude ;  and  so  on  to  the  sixth,  which  are 
the  smallest  that  are  visible  to  the  bare  eye.  This  distri- 
bution having  been  made  long  before  the  invention  of 
telescopes,  the  stars  which  cannot  be  seen  without  the 


GEOGRAPHY  AND  ASTRONOMY. 


235 


assistance  of  those  instruments,  are  distinguished  by  the 
name  of  telescopic  stars. 

They  are  likewise  distinguished,  with  regard  to  their 
situations,  into  asterisms^  or  constellations ;  which  are 
nothing  but  assemblages  of  several  neighbouring  stars, 
considered  as  constituting  some  determinate  figure,  as  of 
an  animal,  &c.  from  which  it  is  therefore  denominated. 

The  number  of  constellations  in  the  northern  hemis- 
phere is  36  ;  in  the  southern  32:  and  in  the  ecliptic  12. 
Those  stars  which  are  not  included  in  the  constellations, 
are  called  unformed  stars;  those  clusters  of  stars  which 
are  so  distant  as  not  to  be  distinctly  seen,  are,  ftom  their 
cloudy  appearance,  comprised  under  the  name  of  nebulae  ; 
and  that  light. coloured  irregular  circle  or  band  which 
encompasses  the  heavens,  and  is  distinguishable  from  the 
ethereal  blue  by  its  brilliancy;  that  shining  zone,  which 
owes  its  splendour  to  the  innumerable  stars  of  which  it  is 
formed,  and  which  passes  through  many  of  the  constella- 
tions in  its  ample  range,  is  called  the  galaxy,  the  via 
lactea,  or  the  milky  way. 

The  idea  of  classing  the  stars  under  well  known  forms, 
probably  originated  with  the  Egyptian  shepherds,  who, 
during  the  silent  watches  of  the  night  (as  they  slept  in 
the  open  air)  had  no  other  objects  to  contemplate  than 
those  which  the  starry  heavens  presented  ;  among  these, 
assisted  by  the  powers  of  a  fertile  imagination,  they  disco- 
vered a  distant  resemblance  of  such  things  as  they  were 
most  familiar  with.  The  shepherds  thus  conceiving  the 
figure  of  things  in  the  firmament,  the  poets  embellished 
the  illusion  with  the  fictions  of  mythology,  till  the 
heavens  were  as  it  were,  filled  with  these  imaginary 
creatures,  and  these  were  increased  in  after- ages,  and 
served  astronomers  in  their  accounts  of  the  starry  heavens, 
as  the  present  divisions  of  the  earth  help  geographers 
in  the  description  of  the  globe. 

The  twelve  constellations  which  surround  the  ecliptic, 
commonly  called  the  twelve  signs  of  the  zodiac,  are  the 
following  :  Aries,  the  Ram ;  Taurus,  the  Bull ;  Gemini, 
the  Twins ;  Cancer,  the  Crab ;  Leo,  the  Lion ;  Virgo, 
the  Virgin  ;  Libra,  the  Balance  ;  Scorpio,  the  Scorpion  ; 
Sagittarius,  the  Archer;  Capricornus,  the  Goat :  Aquarius, 


236 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


the  Water-bearer  ;  and  Pisces,  the  Fishes  ;  and  they  are 
noted  on  globes  by  their  respective  signs. 

The  former  six  are  called  northern,  and  the  latter 
southern  signs ;  because  the  former  possess  that  half  of  the 
ecliptic  which  lies  to  the  northward  of  the  equinoctial;  and 
the  latter  that  which  lies  to  the  southward.  The  northern 
are  our  summer  signs,  the  southern  our  winter  ones. 

As  these  twelve  signs  answer  to  the  twelve  months  in 
the  year,  it  is  a  very  probable  conjecture  that  the  figures 
under  which  they  are  represented  are  descriptive  of  the 
seasons  of  the  year,  or  months,  in  the  sun's  path  ;  thus, 
the  first  sign  aries,  denotes  that,  about  the  time  when  the 
sun  enters  into  that  part  of  the  ecliptic,  the  lambs  begin 
to  follow  the  sheep ;  and  that  on  the  sun's  approach  to  the 
second  constellation,  Taurus  the  Bull,  is  about  the  time 
of  the  cows  bringing  forth  their  young.  The  third  sign, 
now  Gemini,  was  originally  two  kids,  and  signified  the 
time  of  the  goats  bringing  forth  their  young,  which  are 
usually  two  at  a  birth,  while  the  former,  the  sheep  and 
cow,  commonly  produce  only  one.  The  fourth  sign, 
Cancer,  the  Crab,  an  animal  that  goes  sideways  and 
backwards,  was  placed  at  the  northern  solstice,  the  point 
where  the  sun  begins  to  return  back  again  from  the  north 
to  the  southward.  The  fifth  sign,  Leo,  the  Lion,  as  being 
a  very  furious  animal,  was  thought  to  denote  the  heat 
and  furjr  of  the  burning  sun,  when  he  has  left  Cancer,  and 
entered  the  next  sign  Leo.  The  succeeding  constellation, 
the  sixth  in  order,  received  the  sun  at  the  time  of  ripening 
corn  and  approaching  harvest ;  which  was  aptly  ex- 
pressed by  one  of  the  female  reapers,  with  an  ear  of  corn 
in  her  hand,  viz.  Virgo,  the  Maid.  The  ancients  gave 
to  the  next  sign,  Scorpio,  two  of  the  twelve  divisions  of  the 
zodiac  ;  autumn,  which  affords  fruits  in  great  abundance, 
affords  the  means  and  causes  of  diseases,  and  the  suc- 
ceeding time  is  the  most  unhealthy  of  the  year,  expressed 
by  this  venomous  animal,  here  spreading  out  his  long 
claws  into  one  sign,  as  threatening  mischief,  and  in  the 
other  brandishing  his  tail  to  denote  the  completion  of  it. 
The  fall  of  the  leaf  was  the  season  of  the  ancient  hunting; 
for  which  reason  the  stars  which  marked  the  sun's  place 
at  this  season,  into  the  constellation  Sagittary,  a  hunts- 
man with  his  arrows  and  his  club,  the  weapons  of  des* 


GEOGRAPHY  AND  ASTRONOMY. 


237 


struction  for  the  large  creatures  he  pursued.  The  reason 
of  the  Wild  Goat's  being*  chosen  to  mark  the  southern 
solstice,  when  the  sun  has  attained  his  extreme  limit  that 
way,  and  begins  to  return  and  mount  again  to  the  north- 
ward, is  obvious  enough;  the  character  of  that  animal 
being,  that  it  is  mostly  climbing,  and  ascending  some 
mountain  as  it  browses.  There  yet  remains  two  signs  of 
the  zodiac  to  be  considered  with  regard  to  their  origin, 
viz.  Aquarius  and  Pisces.  As  to  the  former,  it  is  to  be 
considered  that  the  winter  is  a  wet  and  uncomfortable 
season  ;  this,  therefore,  was  expressed  by  Aquarius,  the 
figure  of  a  man  pouring  out  water  from  an  urn.  The  last 
of  the  zodiacal  constellations  was  Pisces,  a  couple  of 
fishes  tied  together,  that  had  been  caught ;  the  lesson  was, 
The  severe  season  is  over  ;  your  flocks  do  not  yield  their 
store,  but  the  seas  and  rivers  are  open,  and  there  you  may 
t  ike  fish  in  abundance. 

With  respect  to  the  distances  of  the  fixed  stars,  they 
are  so  extremely  remote,  that  we  have  no  distances  in  the 
planetary  system  to  compare  to  them. 

The  distance  of  the  star  Draconis  (a  star  of  the  fifth 
magnitude)  appears,  by  Dr.  Bradley's  observations,  to  be 
at  least  400,000  times  that  of  the  sun,  and  the  distance  of 
the  nearest  fixed  star  not  less  than  40,000  diameters  of 
the  earth's  annual  orbit;  that  is,  the  distance  from  the 
earth,  of  the  former  at  least,  38,000,0  00,000,000  miles,  and 
the  latter  not  less  than  7,600,000,000,000  miles.  As 
these  distances  are  immensely  great,  it  may  both  be 
amusing,  and  help  to  a  clearer  and  more  familiar  idea  to 
compare  them  with  the  velocity  of  some  moving  body,  by 
which  they  may  be  measured. 

The  swiftest  motion  we  know  of,  is  that  of  light,  which 
passes  from  the  sun  to  the  earth  in  about  eight  minutes; 
and  yet  this  would  be  above  six  years  traversing  the  first 
space,  and  near  a  ye-ax  and  a  quarter  in  passing  from  the 
nearest  fixed  star  to  the  earth.  But  a  cannon-ball,  moving 
on  a  medium  at  the  rate  of  about  twenty  miles  in  a  minute, 
would  be  3,800,000  years  in  passing  from  Draconis  to  the 
earth,  and  760,000  years  passing  from  the  nearest  fixed 
star.  Sound,  which  moves  at  the  rate  of  about  thirteen 
miles  in  a  minute,  would  be  5,600,000  years  traversing 
the  former  distance,  and  1,128,000  in  passing  through  the 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE, 


latter.  The  celebrated  Huygens  pursued  speculations  of 
this  kind  so  far,  as  to  believe  it  not  impossible,  that  there 
may  be  stars  at  such  inconceivable  distances,  that  their 
light  has  not  yet  reached  the  earth  since  the  creation* 

Though  the  number  of  the  stars  appears  to  be  immense- 
ly great,  yet  have  astronomers  long  since  ascertained  the 
number  of  such  as  are  visible  to  the  eye,  which  are  much 
fewer  than  at  first  sight  be  imagined.  Of  the  3000  con- 
tained in  Flamstead's  catalogue,  there  are  many  that  are 
only  visible  through  a  telescope  ;  and  a  good  eye  scarcely 
ever  sees  more  than  a  thousand  at  the  same  time  in  the 
clearest  heaven ;  the  appearance  of  innumerable  more, 
that  are  frequent  in  clear  winter  nights,  arising  from  our 
sight  being  deceived  by  their  twinkling,  and  from  our 
viewing  them  confusedly,  and  not  reducing  them  to  any 
order. — But  a  good  telescope  directed  indifferently  to 
almost  any  point  of  the  heavens,  discovers  multitudes  that 
are  lost  to  the  naked  eye ;  particularly  in  the  milky  way, 
And  F.  de  Rheita  affirms,  that  he  has  observed  above 
2000  stars  in  the  single  constellation  of  Orion.  The  same 
author  found  above  188  in  the  Pleiades.  Galileo  found 
eighty  in  the  space  of  the  belt  of  Orion's  sword,,  twenty* 
one  in  the  nebulous  star  of  his  head,  and  above  500  in 
another  part  of  him,  within  the  compass  of  one  or  two 
degrees  of  space,  and  more  than  forty  in  the  nebulous  star 
Proesepe,  aad  the  recent  discoveries  of  Dr.  Herschel  have 
proved  the  fixed  stars  to  be  immense,  their  regions  un- 
bounded, and  perhaps  infinite ! 

As  the  stars,  contrary  to  the  moon  and  planets,  shine 
like  our  sun,  by  their  own  native  light,  astronomers  sup- 
pose that  each  of  them  is  a  sun  with  its  system  of  inhabit- 
ed worlds  revolving  round  it.  Under  this  idea  or  persua- 
sion, of  how  innumerable  a  family  do  we  seem  to  make  a 
part !  The  immensity  of  the  universe  becomes  peopled 
with  fellow  beings,  and  we  feel  an  interest  at  what  ap* 
pears  to  be  going  on  at  distances  so  vast,  that  what  we  see, 
as  in  time  present,  we  have  reason  to  believe  (swift,  in- 
conceivably swift,  as  is  the  progress  of  light,  darting  from 
the  spheres)  must  have  happened  many  ages  ago.  Under 
the  idea  of  the  universe  being  replenished  with  human 
beings,  how  magnificent,  how  awful,  are  the  spectacles 
that  present  themselves  to  the  observer  of  the  heavens! 


4 


£E(5GRAPriY  AND  ASTRONOMV.  230 

The  creatures  of  a  day,  of  a  few  Meeting  moments,  seem  to 
obtain  a  glimpse  of  a  new  creation,  a  glimpse  of  the  end 
of  time  in  the  passing  away  of  a  system. 

What  an  amazing  conception,  if  human  imagination 
can  conceive  it,  does  this  give  of  the  works  of  the  Creator! 
-—Thousands  of  thousands  of  suns,  multiplied  without 
end,  and  ranged  all  around  us,  at  immense  distances  from 
each  other,  attended  by  ten  thousand  times  ten  thousand 
worlds,  all  hung  loose,  as  it  were,  in  boundless  space,  up- 
held by  nothing,  confined  by  nothing — yet  preserved  in 
their  rapid  course,  calm,  regular,  and  harmonious,  inva- 
riably keeping  the  paths  assigned  them  by  the  sovereign 
Artificer. 

Let  these  grand  objects!  these  amazing  systems  !  their 
numbers,  motions,  magnitudes,  which  are  much  too  vast 
and  too  sublime  for  the  capacity  of  the  human  mind  to 
form  an  adequate  conception  of,  raise  and  kindle  in  the 
heart  love,  praise,  and  adoration  to  the  supreme  and  great 
Creator* 

"  I  will  consider  thy  heavens^  even  the  works  of  thy 
fingers,  the  moon  and  the  stars  which  thou  hast  ordained  j 
What  is  man  that  thou  art  mindful  of  him,  and  the  son 
of  man  that  thou  visitest  him?  O  Lord,  our  governor, 
how  excellent  is  thy  name  in  all  the  world!" 


CHAP.  IX. 

HISTORY  AND  CHRONOLOGY. 

History,  in  the  general  sense  of  the  word,  signifies 
a  true  relation  of  fads  and  events ;  or,  considered  in  a 
moral  point  of  view,  it  is  that  lively  philosophy,  which, 
laying  aside  the  formality  of  rules,  supplies  the  place  of 
experience,  and  teaches  us  to  act  with  propriety  and 
honour  according  to  the  examples  of  others.  The  province 
of  history  is  so  extensive,  that  it  is  connected  with  every 
branch  of  knowledge ;  and  so  various  and  abundant  are 
its  stores,  that  all  arts*  sciences,  and  professions,  are  in* 


240  YOUJNG  MAN5S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE, 


debted  to  it  for  many  of  the  materials  and  principles  upon 
which  they  depend.  It  opens  the  widest  prospect  to  the 
eyes  01  mankind  in  the  spacious  fields  of  literature,  and  is 
one  of  the  most  pleasing  and  important  objects  of  study 
to  which  the  mind  can  be  directed. 

If  the  limited  acquaintance  we  have  in  the  world,  the 
objects  that  surround  us  within  so  small  an  extent,  and 
some  minute  transactions  of  present  times,  furnish  matter 
of  inquiry  and  amusement,  and  are  sufficient  to  excite  our 
curiosity,  how  much  greater  delight  may  we  reasonably 
propose  to  ourselves  in  extending  the  bounds  of  this 
knowledge,  by  taking  a  view  of  the  pursuits,  employments, 
and  inclinations  of  men  of  all  ages  and  conditions  ;  by 
travelling  into  distant  nations,  traversing  the  vast  regions 
of  the  universe*  and  carrying  our  researches  back  through 
the  long  series  of  ages  which  have  succeeded  one  another 
since  the  creation  of  the  world?  These  great  advantages 
may  be  attained  by  the  study  of  history.  It  lays  open  to 
us  all  countries,  times,  and  transactions,  and  makes  us  in 
a  manner  an  eye  witness  to  the  astonishing  changes  and 
revolutions  that  have  from  time  to  time  happened  in  the 
world.  By  perusing  the  records  of  past  ages,  we  carry 
ourselves  back  to  the  first  original  of  things,  and  enter 
upon  a  new  kind  of  existence.  We  see  the  world  rising 
out  of  nothing,  behold  how  it  was  governed  in  its  infancy, 
how  overflowed  and  destroyed  in  a  deluge  of  water,  and 
again  re-peopled.  We  trace  the  first  institution  and  esta- 
blishment of  kingdoms  and  commonwealths,  observe  how 
they  rose,  flourished,  and  decayed,  and  enter  into  a  kind 
of  intimacy  and  correspondence  with  the  several  great 
men  who  contributed  to  these  mighty  revolutions.  And 
here  it  is  chiefly  that,  by  taking  a  view  of  the  actions 
and  behaviour  of  those  that  have  gone  before  us,  and 
examining  into  their  achievements,  virtues,  and  faults, 
the  mind  comes  to  be  furnished  with  prudent  maxims 
and  reflections,  and  is  enabled  to  form  wise  and  unerring 
rules  for  the  conduct  of  life,  both  in  a  private  and  public 
capacity. 

It  is  history,  then,  that  best  teaches  what  is  honourable 
and  becoming  in  all  the  various  stations  of  life,  and  how 
a  man  may  acquit  himself  with  dignity,  if  fortune  smiles 
upon  him,  and  recommends  him  to  places  of  credit  and 


HISTORY  AND  CHRONOLOGY. 


241 


power,  60  it  will  give  the  truest  insight  into  the  instability 
of  human  things,  and  thereby  prepare  us  for  those  revo- 
lutions and  changes  which  in  the  course  of  life  may 
happen.  For,  when  we  look  back  into  the  annals  of 
past  ages,  we  see  not  only  particular  men  and  families 
experience  these  alterations,  but  even  mighty  kingdoms 
and  potent  empires  have  undergone  the  same  fate. — 
Greece  and  Rome,  heretofore  famous  for  their  invincible 
armies,  renowned  commanders,  and  the  extent  of  their 
dominions,  are  now  brought  to  a  level  with  other  nations, 
yea  sunk  to  the  most  abject  state  of  slavery.  The  arts 
and  sciences,  that  flourished  in  so  eminent  a  degree 
among  them,  and  spread  their  reputation  so  far,  are  in  a 
great  measure  dispersed  in  other  countries,  and  have  con- 
tributed to  raise  them  out  of  the  obscurity  in  which  they 
were  long  involved.  And,  if  great  and  powerful  states 
are  not  exempt  from  these  changes,  well  may  we  expect 
them  in  the  fortunes  of  particular  men.  And  how  useful 
must  that  study  be,  which  not  only  teaches  us  to  acquit 
ourselves  well  upon  any  sudden  elevation  or  success,  but 
also  arms  us  against  the  adverse  accidents  of  life,  so  that 
no  reverse  of  fortune  shall  be  able  to  break  the  harmony 
of  our  minds  ?  For  here  we  meet  with  many  examples 
of  men,  who,  after  supporting  public  stations  with  honour, 
have  shone  out  no  less  illustrious  in  private  life ;  others^ 
again,  sinking  suddenly  from  riches  to  poverty,  have  by 
their  behaviour  added  a  dignity  to  their  low  and  depressed 
condition.  These  are  the  models  which  history  lays  be- 
fore you;  and  by  following  these  you  will  make  your- 
selves great,  wise,  and  esteemed,  in  every  sphere  of  life. 
If  called  to  public  employments,  }^ou  will  know  how  to 
fill  them  with  lustre:  and,  being  well  apprised  of  the 
instability  of  human  affairs,  will  not  suner  any  attach- 
ments to  grow  upon  you,  that  by  a  reverse  of  fortune 
might  destroy  the  balance  within.  A  mind  rightly  con- 
stituted is  not  intoxicated  with  prosperity;  but,  still 
looking  forward,  and  foreseeing  the  possibility  of  a 
change,  disposes  itself  to  submit  without  murmuring  or 
regret. 

By  history,  also,  without  hazard  to  ourselves,  we  are 
made  wise  by  the  experience  of  others.    We  see  the  pas- 
sions of  mankind,  their  interfering  interests,  and  all  the 
21 


242  tOUftG  MAN'S  BOOK  Of  KNOWLEDGE. 


artifices  by  which  they  impose  on  each  other.  We  are 
taught  to  be  upon  our  guard  against  flattery,  to  shun  the 
contagion  of  vice,  to  disclaim  all  commerce  with  the  dis- 
solute and  abandoned,  and  associate  only  with  the  wise 
and  good. 

History,  considered  with  respect  to  the  nature  of  its 
subjects,  may  be  divided  into  general  and  particular ; 
and  with  respect  to  time,  into  ancient  and  modern.  An- 
cient history  commences  with  the  creation  of  the  world, 
and  is  by  Bossuet,  the  learned  author  of  an  universal 
history,  extended  to  the  reign  of  Charlemagne,  Emperor 
of  Germany  and  France,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  800. — 
Modern  history  beginning  with  that  period  reaches  down 
to  the  present  time.  General  history  relates  to  nations 
and  public  affairs,  and  may  be  subdivided  into  sacred, 
ecclesiastical,  and  profane. 

But  as  history  is  a  recital  of  past  events  and  occur- 
rences that  have  been  carried  on  in  different  countries, 
and  in  a  series  of  ages,  the  one  succeeding  the  other,  in 
order  to  reap  the  fruits  of  it  in  their  full  extent  and  matu- 
rity, it  will  be  necessary  to  have  some  previous  knowledge 
of  the  succession  of  times,  and  of  the  several  nations  and 
kingdoms  where  these  transactions  took  place.  For  it 
so  happens,  that  the  revolutions  of  one  age  often  give 
rise  to,  and  are  strictly  connected  with  those  of  another. 
And  therefore  we  can  form  but  very  confused  notions  of 
the  rise  and  fall  of  empires,  and  the  establishment  of 
states,  without  some  such  general  comprehension  of  the 
wnole  current  of  time  as  may  enable  us  to  trace  out  dis- 
tinctly the  dependence  of  events,  and  distribute  them  into 
those  periods  and  divisions  that  shall  lay  the  whole  chain 
of  past  transactions  in  a  just  and  orderly  manner  before 
us.  This  is  that  part  of  knowledge  which  the  learned 
distinguish  by  the  name  of  chronology  ;  importing  a  dis- 
course concerning  time. 

We  shall  not  enter  into  the  nice  speculations  of  philo- 
sophers in  the  definitions  they  have  endeavoured  to  give 
us  of  time,  as  tending  rather  to  perplex  than  illustrate 
the  matter.  Let  it  suffice  to  observe,  that  the  idea  of  it 
seems  to  arise  from  the  reflection  of  our  own  minds,  when, 
in  turning  our  thoughts  upon  the  general  course  of 
things,  we  consider  some  as  present,  some  as  past,  and 


HlSf ORV  AND  CHROiNOLoQt. 


24S 


some  as  to  come.  For  here  consideration  is  had  of  va- 
rious periods,  not  co-existent,  but  following  one  another 
in  succession  ;  and  the  interval  between  any  two  of  these 
periods  is  what  we  properly  call  a  space  of  time.  The 
general  idea  thus  explained,  it  will  be  easy  to  trace  its 
different  shapes  and  modifications.  For  in  taking  ac» 
count  of  things  past,  they  appear  to  the  mind  either  as 
existing  together,  or  as  distant  from  one  another  by 
various  intervals.  And  when  these  intervals  come  to  be 
compared,  some  of  them  appear  longer  than  others,  and 
these  longer  being  considered  as  double  or  triple  the 
shorter,  hence  we  get  the  notion  of  measuring  one  portion 
of  time  by  another,  than  which  nothing  can  tend  more 
to  render  our  ideas  of  it  clear  and  distinct.  For  when 
any  extent  of  time  is  too  large  for  the  mind  to  take  in  at 
once,  by  thus  considering  it  as  a  composition  of  some 
fesser  space,  and  equal  to  a  certain  repetition  of  it,  the 
idea  is  ascertained,  and  passes  in  a  distinct  review  of  all 
its  parts  before  us.  But,  then,  when  we  come  to  apply 
these  measures  to  time,  either  as  running  on  in  continual 
succession,  or  as  already  past  and  gone,  we  find  ourselves 
lost  in  an  immeasurable  depth,  and  meet  with  nothing  to 
bound  us  either  way.  This  makes  it  necessary  to  fix 
upon  some  determinate  point,  or  points,  in  this  infinite 
duration,  from  which,  as  from  a  beginning,  the  various 
measures  of  time,  as  days,  months,  years,  &c.  may  be 
numbered  either  backwards  or  forwards.  And  accord- 
ingly several  roots  or  terms  of  this  kind  have  been  devised 
by  different  nations,  as  they  happened  to  think  one  thing 
or  another  more  worthy  of  remembrance,  and  therefore 
fit  to  give  a  date  to  other  transactions. — They  are  called 
epochas,  or  ceras,  as  being  a  kind  of  resting  place  for  the 
mind,  from  which  to  look  about  it,  and  begin  its  compu- 
tations. 

Now,  from  what  has  "been  said,  it  will  readily  be  per- 
ceived, that  the  whole  science  of  chronology  may  be  fitly 
divided  into  two  parts  or  branches ;  one  comprehending 
the  knowledge  of  the  various  measures  and  periods  by 
which  time  is  computed;  and  the  other  describing  the 
several  aeras  and  epochas,  from  which,  according  to  diffe- 
rent nations,  events  are  dated.  For,  by  knowing  these 
two,  we  are  masters  of  the  whole  current  of  time,  as  being' 


244        young  mar's  book  of  knowledge. 

not  only  able  to  calculate  the  length  of  any  interval  or 
distance,  but  also,  by  comparing  the  computation  of 
various  ages  and  kingdoms,  to  fit  them  one  to  another, 
and,  by  adjusting  the  whole  to  some  standard  period, 
regulate  the  entire  succession  of  past  transactions. 

As  the  idea  of  time  in  general  is  acquired  by  consider- 
ing the  parts  of  duration  as  existing  in  succession,  and 
distant  from  one  another  by  several  intervals  ;  so  the  idea 
of  any  particular  time,  or  length  of  duration,  as  a  day,  a 
month,  a  year,  &c.  is  obtained  by  observing  certain 
appearances  uniformly  returning  at  regular  and  seemingly 
equidistant  periods.  For  thus  we  get  the  notion  of  equal 
spaces,  and,  by  variously  multiplying  and  combining 
these,  can  form  to  ourselves  different  measures  of  time,  of 
different  lengths,  according  to  the  exigency  of  things. 
Now  the  motions  of  the  sun,  and  other  heavenly  bodies, 
by  reason  of  their  constancy  and  equability,  easily  invited 
men  to  make  them  the  standard  by  which  to  regulate 
these  several  dimensions.  And  because  the  apparent 
diurnal  revolution  of  the  sun  was  not  only  constant  and 
equable,  but  frequent  and  of  a  shorter  circuit;  hence  it 
naturally  became  the  first  measure  of  time,  under  the 
denomination  of  a  da,y. 

A  day,  therefore,  may  be  defined  to  be  a  division  of 
time,  drawn  from  the  appearance  and  disappearance  of 
the  sun ;  and  is  of  two  kinds,  artificial  and  natural. 

The  artificial  day,  which  seems  to  be  that  primarily 
meant  by  the  word  day,  is  the  time  of  light,  or  of  the 
sun's  stay  above  the  horizon,  determined  by  his  rising 
and  setting :  In  opposition  to  which,  the  time  of  darkness, 
or  of  the  sun's  continuance  below  the  horizon,  from  set- 
ting to  rising  again,  is  called  night. 

The  natural,  or  as  it  is  also  called,  the  civil  day,  is  that 
space  of  time  wherein  the  sun  completes  his  circuit  round 
the  earth;  or,  to  speak  properly  and  astronomically,  the 
time  of  an  entire  revolution  of  the  equator.  Different 
nations  have  acted  with  great  diversity  of  choice,  in  fixing 
the  beginning  of  their  days ;  some  computing  from  the 
rising,  others  from  the  setting  of  the  sun,  and  others  again 
from  his  passing  the  upper  or  lower  meridian.  Hence  the 
ancient  Babylonians,  Persians,  Syrians,  and  most  other 
eastern  nations,  with  the  present  inhabitants  of  the  Balear- 


HISTORY  AND  CHRONOLOGY.  245 

ick  Islands,  the  Greeks,  &c.  begin  their  day  with  the 
sun's  rising.  The  ancient  Athenian  and  Jews,  with  the 
Austrians,  Bohemians,  Marco  ma  nni,  Silesians,  modern 
Italians,  and  Chinese,  reckon  from  the  sun's  setting.  The 
ancient  Umbri  and  Arabians,  with  the  modern  astrono- 
mers, from  noon.  And  the  Egyptians  and  Romans,  with 
themodern  English,  French,  Dutch,  Germans,  Spaniards, 
and  Portuguese,  from  midnight.  And  as  different  people 
thus  varied  as  to  the  time  of  beginning  the  day,  so  were 
their  different  distributions  and  divisions  of  it  into  parts  ; 
some  distinguishing  the  time  of  the  artificial  day  into 
twelve  equal  portions,  which  therefore  in  different  seasons 
of  the  year  must  be  of  different  lengths.  But  the  distinc- 
tion that  now  most  generally  prevails,  is  that  of  the  whole 
space  of  day  and  night  into  twenty-four  hours,  which, 
being  so  well  known  will  need  no  farther  illustration* 

All  the  periods  and  distinctions  of  time  we  meet  with 
in  chronology  are  no  other  than  various  combinations  of 
this  first  measure,  accommodated  to  the  particular  wants 
of  mankind,  the  different  appearances  of  the  heavens,  and 
the  several  intervals  of  past  transactions.  Men  were,  no 
doubt,  in  the  beginning,  contented. with  the  simple  revo- 
lution of  a  day,  and  for  some  little  time  it  would  well 
enough  serve  all  the  purposes  expected  from  it.  But  as 
the  world  advanced  in  age,  and  the  intervals  between  the 
different  transactions  became  large  and  extended,  the 
number  of  days  would  multiply  so  fast,  as  soon  to  disco- 
ver the  necessity  of  instituting  more  comprehensive 
measures  of  time,  for  the  easy  and  convenient  compu- 
tation of  these  longer  spaces.  This  was  done  by  com- 
bining days  into  various  systems  and  classes  of  different 
lengths,  according  to  the  exigency  of  things,  which  gave 
rise  to  the  institution  of  months,  years,  olympiads,  &c. 

Different  nations  have  adopted  different  modes  of  com- 
puting time.  The  most  ancient  we  read  of  is  that  of 
Moses.  In  his  description  of  the  deluge  he  calculates  by 
months,  consisting  each  of  thirty  days,  and  by  years  360 
days  each.  According  to  Herodotus,  the  Egyptians 
reckoned  in  the  same  manner,  and  from  them  probably 
Moses  adopted  his  method,  as  he  was  versed  in  all  their 
learning. 

The  Greeks  calculated  by  Olympiads.    An  Olympiad 


246         young  man's  book  of  knowledge. 


is  a  space  of  four  years,  after  the  expiration  of  which, 
that  is  in  the, fifth  year,  games  in  honour  of  Jupiter 
Olympius  was  celebrated  with  great  pomp  and  festivity 
by  the  Greeks  near  Olympia,  a  city  in  Peloponnesus. 
They  were  fully  established  in  the  3228th  year  of  the 
world,  776  before  Christ.  This  mode  of  computation 
appears  to  have  ceased  after  the  364th,  which  ended  A.D. 
440,  as  we  have  no  further  mention  of  them  in  history. 

The  usual  mode  of  Romish  computation  from  the 
years  which  had  elapsed  from  the  building  of  the  city, 
anno  urbis  conditcc,  expressed  briefly  by  the  letters  A.U.C. 
This  event  took  place  in  the  3250th  year  of  the  world, 
and  the  750th  year  before  Christ. 

The  ordinary  mode  of  reckoning  the  years  of  the 
world  is  to  take  4004  before  Christ  for  the  sera  of  the 
creation,  which  is  adopted  from  the  Hebrew  text  of  the 
scriptures.  Christians  compute  from  the  most  memorable 
of  all  aeras,  the  birth  of  our  Saviour,  wThich  happened  in 
the  27th  year  of  the  reign  of  Augustus,  and  in  the  year 
of  Rome  749.  The  Turks  compute  from  the  Hegira,  or 
flight  of  Mahomet  from  Mecca ;  this  happened  in  the 
622d  year  of  our  Lord,  when  Heraclius  was  emperor  of 
the  East.  The  Julian,  or  old  stile,  is  so  called  from  Ju- 
lius Caesar,  who  regulated  the  Roman  calendar.  He 
added  a  day  immediately  after  the  twenty-fourth  of  Fe- 
bruary, called  by  the  Romans  the  sixth  of  the  calends  of 
March ;  as  it  was  thus  reckoned  Uvice,  the  year  in  which 
it  was  introduced  was  called  Bissextile^  or  what  we  call 
Leap  Year. 

This  calendar  was  still  more  reformed  by  order  of  Pope 
Gregory  XIII.  in  1532,  from  whence  arose  the  new  stile, 
which  is  now  observed  in  every  European  country, 
except  Russia.  The  Julian  year  was  too  long  by  nearly 
eleven  minutes,  which  excess  amounts  to  three  days  in 
400  years  :  the  Pope,  therefore,  with  the  advice  of  able 
astronomers,  ordained  that  a  day  in  every  three  centuries 
out  of  four  should  be  omitted ;  so  that  every  century, 
which  would  otherwise  be  a  bissextile  year,  is  made  to 
be  only  a  common  year,  excepting  only  such  centuries  as 
are  exactly  divisible  by  four,  which  happens  once  in  four 
centuries.  This  reformation  of  the  calendar  commenced 
in  the  countries  under  the  papal  influence  on  the  4th  of 


HISTORY  AND  CHRONOLOGY" 


247 


October,  1582  when  ten  days  were  omitted  at  once,  which 
had  been  overrun  since  the  Council  of  Nice,  in  325,  by 
the  overplus  of  eleven  minutes  each  year.  In  England, 
this  new  style  commenced  only  in  1752,  when  eleven 
days  were  omitted  at  once,  the  3d  of  September  being 
reckoned  the  14th  in  that  year ;  as  the  surplus  minutes 
had  then  amounted  to  eleven  daj^s.  The  calendar  thus 
reformed,  which,  by  an  act  of  parliament  in  the  24th  of 
George  II.,  was  ordered  to  be  observed,  comes  very  nearly 
to  the  accuracy  of  nature,  for  it  is  ordered  by  that  act, 
that  Easter  Sunday,  on  which  the  rest  of  the  feasts  de- 
pend, is  always  the  first  Sunday  after  the  full  moon, 
which  happens  upon,  or  next  after  the  21st  of  March  : 
and  if  the  full  moon  happens  on  a  Sunday,  Easterday  is 
the  Sunday  after. 

After  these  deviations  on  chronology,  we  shall,  conso- 
nant to  our  design,  hasten  to  lay  before  the  reader  a  short 
view  of  ancient  history,  from  the  creation  of  the  world  to 
the  birth  of  Christ,  dividing  that  whole  interval  into  ten 
parts.  The  first  takes  in  the  duration  of  the  old  world,  or 
from  the  creation  to  the  deluge,  which  includes  one 
thousand  six  hundred  and  fifty-six  years.  The  second 
reaches  from  the  deluge  to  the  vocation  of  Abraham,  and 
takes  in  four  hundred  and  twenty-six  years.  The  third, 
from  the  vocation  of  Abraham  to  the  departure  of  the 
children  of  Israel  out  of  Egypt,  comprehends  four  hun- 
dred and  thirty  years.  The  fourth,  from  the  departure 
out  of  Egypt  to  the  destruction  of  Troy,  includes  three 
hundred  and  eight  years.  The  fifth,  from  the  destruc- 
tion of  Troy  to  the  laying  the  foundation  of  the  temple 
under  Solomon,  takes  in  an  hundred  and  seventy-two 
years.  The  sixth,  from  the  foundation  of  the  temple  to 
the  building  of  Rome,  includes  two  hundred  and  fifty- 
eight  years.  The  seventh,  from  the  building  of  Rome  to 
Cyrus,  comprehends  two  hundred  and  eight  years.  The 
eighth,  from  Cyrus  to  the  overthrow  of  the  Persian  Em- 
pire by  Alexander  the  Great,  contains  two  hundred  and 
six  years.  The  ninth,  from  the  fall  of  the  Persian  Em- 
pire to  the  defeat  of  Perseus,  when  Rome  became  the 
mistress  of  the  world,  takes  in  an  hundred  and  sixty-two 
years.  The  tenth,  and  last,  from  the  destruction  of  the 
kingdom  of  Macedon  under  Perseus,  to  the  beginning  of 


248 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


the  Christian  sera,  includes  about  an  hundred  and  sixty- 
eight  years. 

The  first  epocha  opens  with  a  display  of  Almighty 
power.  God  creates  the  world  out  of  nothing,  and  pours 
upon  it  a  profusion  of  ornaments,  that  it  may  be  an 
agreeable  habitation  for  man,  who  stands,  in  the  first 
rank  of  beings  here  below.  This  great  event  is  placed 
by  Archbishop  Usher,  whose  chronology  we  choose  to 
follow,  in  the  710th  year  of  the  Julian  period,  and  the 
4004th  before  Christ.  Here  Moses,  the  great  lawgiver 
of  the  Jews,  begins  his  history,  and  presents  us  with  the 
original  pair  in  a  state  of  innocence  and  perfection, 
adorned  with  the  image  of  their  Maker,  and  exercising 
dominion  over  the  creatures.  This  is  the  period  so  much 
celebrated  by  the  poets  under  the  name  of  the  golden 
age.  But,  alas !  it  was  of  short  continuance.  Eve 
seduced,  and  Adam  joining  in  offence,  experience  a  fatal 
reverse  of  fortune,  and  are  forced  to  quit  the  delightful 
abode  of  Paradise. 

The  earth  begins  to  be  peopled,  and  the  cor- 
Yeaworidtlie  roptUH1  °f  human  nature  discovers  itself. — 
v^^^^Abel  is  murdered  by  his  brother  Cain;  but 
punishment  follows  close  upon  the  offence.— 
We  see  the  criminal  suffering  under  the  re- 
proaches of  his  own  conscience,  and  retiring  from  the 
commerce  of  men,  whose  hatred  he  had  justly  incurred. 
By  him  the  first  city  is  built,  and  among  his  posterity  we 
meet  with  the  first  beginning  of  arts.    Here  we  see,  at 
the  same  time,  the  tyranny  of  the  human  passions,  and 
the  prodigious  malignity  of  the  heart  of  man. 
987    The  posterity  of  Seth,  withstand  the  general 
torrent,  and  continue  faithful  to  God.    Enoch  is 
miraculously  taken  up  into  heaven,  as  a  reward  for  his 
upright  walking  with  his  Maker.    The  posterity  of  Seth 
intermarrying  with  the  descendants  of  Cain  j  ox,  in  the 
language  of  scripture,  the  sons  of  God  going  in  unto  the 
daughters  of  men,  an  universal  corruption  ensued.  God, 
no  longer  able  to  bear  with  the  wickedness  of  men,  re- 
solves upon  their  destruction,  and  makes  known 
1536  his  purpose  by  the  mouth  of  his  servant  Noah; 
but  they  continuing  hardened  in  their  iniquities, 
the  earth  is  covered  with  a  deluge  of  water,  and  all  masv 


HISTORY  AND  CHRONOLOGY. 


249 


kind  cut  off,  Noah  and  his  family  excepted.    This  hap- 
pened in  the  1656th  year  of  the  world,  and  the 
2366th  of  the  Julian  period.    It  is  worth  observ-  1656 
ing,  that,  as  the  deluge  was  universal,  so  the 
tradition  of  it  has  obtained  belief  among  all  nations.— 
Nothing  is  more  celebrated  in  the  writings  of  the  poets, 
nor  can  any  event  of  equal  antiquity  boast  of  so  many 
concurring  testimonies  to  support  it.    Not  that  sacred 
history  derives  any  additional  strength  from  such  foreign 
recommendations;  but  the  mind  is  pleased  to  see  truths, 
in  which  it  takes  a  real  interest,  confirmed  by  the  annals 
of  nations  who  had  not  any  such  motives  to  engage  their 
belief  of  them. 


Second  epocha. — The  Deluge. 

To  the  times  following  after  the  deluge,  we  must  refer 
to  some  considerable  changes  in  the  ordinary  course  of 
nature.  So  universal  a  shock  doubtless  caused  great 
alterations  in  the  atmosphere,  which  now  took  a  form 
not  so  friendly  to  the  frame  and  texture  of  the 
human  body.  Hence  the  abridgement  of  the  life  1756 
of  man,  and  that  formidable  train  of  diseases 
which  have  ever  since  made  such  havoc  in  the  world. 
The  memory  of  the  three  sons  of  Noah,  the  first  founders 
of  nations,  has,  we  find,  been  preserved  among  the  several 
people  descended  from  them.  Japhet,  who  peopled  the 
greatest  part  of  the  west,  continued  long  famous  under 
the  celebrated  name  of  Japetus.  Ham  was  revered  as  a 
God  by  the  Egyptians  under  the  title  of  Jupiter  Hammon. 
And  the  memory  of  Shem  has  ever  been  held  in  honour 
among  the  Hebrews,  his  descendants.  The  first 
considerable  dispersion  of  mankind  was  occasioned  1757 
by  the  confusion  of  languages,  sent  among  them 
by  God,  upon  their  engaging  in  a  vain  attempt  of  build- 
ing a  tower,  whose  top  might  reach  the  heaven.  As  the 
earth,  after  the  deluge,  was  over-run  with  woods,  which 
became  the  haunts  of  wild  beasts,  the  great  heroism  of 
those  times  consisted  in  clearing  the  ground,  and  extir- 
pating these  savage  monsters,  that  held  mankind  under 
continual  alarms,  and  hindered  them  from  enlarging 


250 


young  man's  book  of  knowledge 


their  habitations.  Nimrod,  acquiring  great  reputation 
in  this  wajr,  is  thence  called  by  Moses  a  mighty  hunter 
before  the  Lord.  As  his  enterprises  of  this  kind  soon 
made  him  considerable,  and  naturally  tended  to  rouse 
ambition  in  the  heart  of  man,  we  find  him  aiming  at  do- 
minion over  his  fellow-creatures,  and  establishing  his 
authority  upon  conquest.    Such  was  the  first  beginning 

of  kingdoms.  Nimrod  founded  his  Babylon, 
1771    where  the  vain  attempt  to  build  the  famous  tower 

had  been  made.  Much  about  the  same  time  the 
foundations  of  Nineveh  were  laid,  and  several  other 
ancient  kingdoms  established.  They  were  but  of  small 
extent  in  their  first  beginning,  as  is  easy  to  suppose.  In 
Egypt  alone  we  meet  with  four  djmasties  or  principali- 
ties; Thebes,  Thin,  Memphis,  and  Tanis.  To  this  age, 
also,  we  may  refer  the  origin  of  the  Egyptian  laws  and 
policy.  Already  they  began  to  distinguish  themselves 
by  their  astronomical  knowledge,  which  was  also  culti- 
vated with  no  less  ardour  among  the  Chaldeans.  You 
will  readily  suppose,  that  if  the  speculative  sciences  began 
by  this  time  to  be  cultivated,  those  practical  arts  that 
tend  to  the  ease  and  accommodation  of  human  life  would 
not  lie  neglected.  Noah  had  doubtless  preserved  all  the 
inventions  of  the  old  world ;  but,  as  the  face  of  nature 
was  considerably  altered  by  the  deluge,  new  contrivances 
must  be  adapted  to  their  present  circumstances.  Hence 
agriculture,  architecture,  and  the  art  of  polishing  man- 
kind, are  found  to  have  flourished  very  early  in  the  wes- 
tern parts  of  the  world,  where  Noah  and  his  descendants 
first  settled.  In  proportion  as  we  remove  from  them,  we 
meet  with  nothing  but  barbarity  and  a  savage  wilderness. 
Even  Greece  itself,  which  led  the  way  in  arts  and  sci- 
ences to  the  other  European  nations,  was  wholly  unac- 
quainted with  the  most  necessary  concerns  of  human 
life,  till  strangers  arriving  from  the  Eastern  countries, 
brought  along  with  them  the  knowledge  of  those  more 
improved  nations.  But,  though  arts  and  sciences  thus 
flourished  in  the  east,  the  knowledge  of  the  true  God 
seems  to  have  decayed  very  early.  Tradition  introduced 
many  absurd  notions  into  religion,  and  made  way  for 
those  gross  ideas  of  the  Deity  that  soon  overspread  the 
world.    The  number  of  false  divinities  multiplied  ex- 


HISTORY  AND  CHRONGLou*  25l 

ceedingly  ;  and  this  was  what  gave  occasion  to  the  vo- 
cation of  Abraham. 

Third  epocha. — The  Vocation  of  Abraham. 

This  happened  about  four  hundred  and  twenty-six 
years  after  the  deluge,  and  in  the  2793d  year  of  the  Julian 
period*    For  then  it  was  that  the  several  nations  of  the 
earth,  walking  after  their  own  ways,  and  forget- 
ting him  that  made  them ;  God,  to  hinder  in  some  2083 
measure  the  progress  of  this  universal  depravation, 
resolved  to  separate  for  himself  a  chosen  people.  Abraham 
was  called  to  be  the  father  of  this  distinguished  race. 
God  appeared  to  him  in  the  land  of  Canaan,  where  he 
purposed  to  establish  his  worship,  and  the  posterity  of 
that  eminent  patriarch,  whom  he  promised  to 
multiply  as  the  stars  of  heaven,  and  the  sand  upon  2092 
the  sea  shore.    It  is  remarkable  of  this  father  of 
the  chosen  nation,  that  though  abounding  in  wealth,  and 
possessed  of  a  power  which  had  proved  an  over-match  for 
that  of  several  kings  united,  he  yet  adhered  to  the  man- 
ners of  ancient  times,  and,  contented  with  the  simplicity 
of  a  pastoral  life,  discovered  his  magnificence  no  otherwise 
than  by  the  most  unbounded  and  extensive  hos-  , 
pitality.  It  was  in  his  time  that  Inachus,  the  most  2148 
ancient  of  all  the  kings  mentioned  in  the  history  of 
Greece,  founded  the  kingdom  of  Argos.    After  Abraham, 
we  read  of  Isaac,  his  son,  and  Jacob  his  grandson,  who 
no  less  distinguished  themselves   by  a  simplicity  of 
manners  and  steady  faith  in  God.    Nor  did  they  miss  of 
the  reward  due  to  their  piety.    The  same  promises  were 
renewed  to  them,  and  they  equally  experienced  the  favor 
and  protection  of  heaven.    Isaac  blessed  Jacob,  to  the 
prejudice  of  his  elder  brother  Esau,  and,  though 
deceived  in  appearance,  only  fulfilled  the  council  2245 
of  God.    Esau  is  also  mentioned  in  scripture  by 
the  name  of  Edom,  and  was  the  father  of  the  Idomeans, 
of  no  smajl  note  in  history-    To  Jacob  were  born  the 
twelve  patriarchs,  fathers  of  tl\e  twelve  tribes  of  Israel. 
Among  them  Joseph  holds  a  distinguished  place.  The 
train  of  accidents  by  which  he  became  first  minister  to 


252        young  man's  book  of  knowledge, 

the  king  of  Egypt,  plainly  speaks  the  immediate,  interpo- 
sition of  Providence,  which  was  then  preparing  for  the 
accomplishment  of  the  promises  made  to  Abraham.  For 
to  this  was  owing  the  settlement  of  Jacob's  family  in  that 
part  of  Egj'pt  of  which  Tanis  was  the  capital,  and  where 

the  kings  took  all  the  name  of  Pharaoh.  Jacob,  a 
2315    little  before  his  death,  calling  his  children  together, 

made  that  celebrated  prophetic  declaration  of  the 
future  state  of  their  posterity,  in  which  he  particularly 
discovered  to  Judah  the  time  of  the  Messiah,  and  that  he 
was  to  issue  from  his  loins.  The  family  of  this  patriarch 
became  in  a  short  time  a  great  people,  insomuch  that  the 

jealousy  of  the  Egyptians  being  roused  by  so 
2433    amazing  an  increase,  they  began  to  lay  them 

under  heavy  oppressions.  At  length  God  sends 
Moses  into  the  world,  delivers  him  from  the  waters  of  the 
Nile,  and  makes  him  fall  into  the  hands  of  Pharaoh's 
daughter,  who  educates  him  as  her  own  son,  and  instructs 
him  in  all  the  learning  of  the  Egyptians.   About  this  time 

the  people  of  Egypt  sent  out  colonies  into  several 
2448    parts  of  Greece.   That  of  Cecrops  founded  twelve 

cities,  or  rather  villages,  in  Attica,  of  which  was 
composed  the  kingdom  of  Athens,  where  the  Egyptian 
laws  and  religion  were  introduced  by  the  founder.  Not 
long  after  happened  that  famous  flood  in  Thessaly,  under 
Deucalion,  which  the  Greek  poets  have  confounded  with 
the  universal  deluge.  Hellen,  a  son  of  this  Deucalion; 
reigned  afterwards  in  Thessaly,  and  gave  his  name  to 
Greece.  Much  about  the  same  time,  Cadmus,  the  son  of 
Agenor,  came  with  a  colony  of  Phoenicians  into  Bceotia, 
and  founded  the  ancient  city  of  Thebes.  Moses,  in  the 
mean  time,  advanced  in  years,  and,  being  driven  from  the 
court  of  Pharaoh,  because  he  opposed  the  persecution  of 
his  brethern,  fled  into  Arabia,  where  he  fed  the  flocks  of 
his  father-in-law,  Jethro,  forty  years.    It  was  here  that 

he  saw  the  vision  of  the  burning  bush,  and  heard 
2513    the  voice  of  God  calling  to  him  to  go  to  deliver  his 

brethren  from  the  slavery  of  Egypt.  He  obeyed 
the  divine  admonition,  and  wrought  all  those  wonders  in 
the  court  of  Pharaoh,  of  wjiich  we  have  so  full  an  account 
in  holy  writ. — And  this  brings  us  to  the  fourth  period  of 
our  history. 


HISTORY  AND  CHRONOLOGY, 


253 


Fourth  ephocha. —  The  Departure  out  of  Egypt. 

In  the  859th  year  after  the  deluge,  the  430th  from  the 
vocation  of  Abraham,  and  the  3223d  of  the  Julian  period, 
Moses  led  the  children  of  Israel  out  of  Egypt,  and  receiv- 
ed the  law  from  God  himself  upon  Mount  Sinai.    In  his 
progress  through  the  wilderness  to  the  Land  of 
Canaan,  he  instituted,  by  God's  appointment  and  2513 
direction,  the  whole  tabernacle  service.    We  find 
him  also  establishing  a  form  of  civil  government  among 
the  tribes,  in  the  framing  of  which  he  was  assisted  by  the 
counsel  of  his  father-in-law  Jethro.    During  these  trans- 
actions in  the  wilderness,  the  Egyptians  continued  send- 
ing out  colonies  into  divers  nations,  particularly 
Greece,  where  Danaus  found  means  to  get  posses-  2530 
sion  of  the  throne  of  Argos,  driving  out  the  ancient 
kings  descended  of  Inachus.    Upon  the  death  of  2553 
Moses,  Joshua  succeeded,  who  began  and  nearly 
completed  the  conquest  of  Canaan.    After  him  we  meet 
with  a  succession  of  Judges.    Unhappily  the  Israelites, 
after  the  death  of  the  elders  that  knew  Joshua,  forgot  the 
God  of  their  fathers,  and  were  seduced  into  the  idolatry 
of  the  bordering  nations.    This  drew  down  heavy  chas- 
tisements from  above,  and  they  were  sold  into  the  hands 
of  cruel  oppressors.    But  when,  in  their  distress,  they 
called  upon  God,  he  failed  not,  from  time  to  timer 
to  raise  up  a  deliverer.    Thus  Othniel  put  an  end  2599 
to  the  tyranny  of  Cushan,  king  of  Mesopotamia, 
and  80  years  after  Ehud  delivered  them  from  the  2679 
oppression  of  Eglon,  king  of  Moab.    Much  about 
this  time  Pelops,  the  Phrygian,  the  son  of  Tantalus, 
reigned  in  Pelopennesus,  and  gave  his  name  to  that 
famous  Peninsula.    Bel  or  Belus,  king  of  the  Chaldeans, 
received  from  his  people  divine  honours.    The  Jews,  en- 
slaved or  victorious,  according  as  they  honoured  or  forsook 
their  God,  experience  many  vicissitudes  of  fortune,  as 
may  be  seen  in  the  histories  of  Deborah  and  Barak,  of 
Gideon,  Abimelech,  Jephthah,  &c.    This  age  is  con- 
siderable for  many  great  revolutions  among  the  heathen 
nations.  For,  according  to  the  computation  of  He- 
rodotus, who  seems  the  most  exact  and  worthy  of  273? 
credit,  we  are  here  to  fix  the  foundation  of  the 
21 


254 


iGUSG  MAK's  BOOK  OF  K2fOtti.£t5GE. 


Assyrian  empire  under  Ninus  the  son  of  Beius,  520  years 
before  the  building  of  Rome,  and  in  the  time  of  Deborah 
the  prophetess.  He  established  the  seat  of  it  at  Nineveh, 
that  ancient  city,  already  famous  over  all  the  east,  but 
now  greatly  beautified  and  enlarged  by  him.  They  who 
allow  1300  years  to  the  first  Assyrian  empire,  run  up 
nearly  to  the  times  of  Nimrod,  founding  their  supposition 
upon  the  antiquity  of  the  city.  But  Herodotus,  who  gives 
it  only  520  years,  speaks  of  its  duration  from  Ninus, 
under  whom  the  Assyrians  extended  their  conquests  over 
all  the  Upper  Asia. — Under  this  conqueror  we  are  to  place 
the  founding,  or  rather  rebuilding,  of  the  ancient  city  of 
Tyre,  which  afterwards  became  so  famous  by  its  naviga- 
tion and  colonies. — Here  too,  or  very  soon  after,  probably 
in  the  time  of  Abimelech,  come  in  the  famous  exploits  of 
Hercules,  the  son  of  Amphytrion,  and  of  Thesus,  king  of 
Athens.  This  last  united  the  twelve  districts  of  Attica 
into  one  large  city,  and  gave  a  better  form  to  the  Athe- 
nian government.  In  the  reign  of  Semiramis,  so  famous 
for  her  conquests  and  magnificient  works,  and  while 
Jephthah  judged  Israel,  Troy,  which  had  been  already 
once  taken  by  the  Greeks  in  the  time  of  Laomedan,  was 
a  second  time  taken  and  reduced  to  ashes  by  the  same 
Greeks,  in  that  of  Priam,  the  son  of  Leomedan,  after  a 
siege  of  ten  years. 


Fifth  epocha, —  The  taking  of  Troy. 

This  epocha  of  the  destruction  of  Troy,  which  happen- 
ed about  308  years  after  the  departure  out  of  Egypt,  and 
in  the  3530th  year  of  the  Julian  period,  is  considerable, 

not  only  on  account  of  the  greatness  of  the  event, 
2320    celebrated  by  so  many  famous  poets  both  Greek 

and  Latin,  but  also  because  it  furnishes  a  proper 
date  in  taking  account  of  the  fabulous  and  heroic  times. 
These  ages  of  fiction  and  romance,  where  the  poets  place 
their  heroes  the  offspring  of  the  Gods,  are  not  very  remote 
from  the  sera  we  are  speaking  of.  For,  in  the  time  of 
L  iomedan,  the  father  of  Priam,  appeared  all  the  worthies 
concerned  in  the  expedition  of  the  Golden  Fleece,  Jason, 
Hercules,  Orpheus,  Castor,  Pollux,  &c.  and  even  in  the 


HISTORY  AND  CHRONOLOGY. 


255 


age  of  Priam  himself  we  see  Achilles,  Agamemnon, 
Menelaus,  Hector,  Ulysses,  Diomedes,  Sarpedon  the  son 
of  Jupiter,  iEneas  the  son  of  Venus,  whom  the  Romans 
acknowledged  for  their  father  and  founder,  with  many 
others,  the  boast  of  nations,  and  the  pride  of  the  most 
renowned  families.  Round  this  epocha,  therefore,  we 
may  gather  what  is  most  illustrious  and  great  in  the 
heroic  times.  But  the  transactions  of  holy  writ,  during 
this  period,  are  yet  more  astonishing.  The  prodigious 
strength  of  Samson  and  his  amazing  exploits,  the  admi- 
nistration of  Eli,  Samuel  the  chosen  prophet  of  God, 
Saul,  the  first  king  of  Israel,  his  victories,  presumption, 
and  unhappy  fall,  are  events  that  may  well  raise  our 
wonder  and  admiration.  About  this  time  Codrus,  king 
of  Athens,  devoted  himself  to  death  for  the  safety  of  his 
country.  His  sons,  Medon  and  Nileus,  disputed  about 
the  succession  ;  whereupon  the  Athenians  abolished  the 
regal  power,  and  created  perpetual  governors,  or  magis- 
trates for  life,  but  answerable  for  their  conduct,  who 
were  distinguished  by  the  name  of  Archons.  Medon, 
the  son  of  Codrus,  was  the  first  who  exercised  that  office, 
and  it  continued  a  long  time  in  his  family.  To  this  age 
we  must  also  refer  the  settlement  of  several  Athenian 
colonies  in  that  part  of  Asia  Minor,  called  Iona.  The 
iEolian  colonies  settled  there  much  about  the  same  time, 
and  all  Asia  Minor  was  covered  with  Greek  cities. 
In  the  kingdom  of  Israel,  Saul  was  succeeded  by  2949 
David,  who  at  first  was  acknowledged  as  king 
by  the  house  of  Judah  only  ;  but,  upon  the  death  of  Ish- 
bosheth,  all  the  tribes  owned  his  authority.  He  proved  a 
valiant  and  fortunate  prince,  greatly  enlarged  his  domi- 
nions, and  advanced  the  Israelites  to  a  degree  of  wealth 
and  power  far  exceeding  any  thing  they  had  known 
before.  But,  what  is  still  more,  he  was  the  distinguished 
favourite  of  heaven,  and  is  stiied,  in  scripture,  a  man 
according  to  God's  own  heart.  To  this  pious  warrior 
succeeded  Solomon,  famed  for  his  wisdom,  justice,  and 
pacific  virtues  ;  whose  hands,  unpolluted  with  blood, 
were  declared  worthy  to  raise  a  temple  to  the  Most  High. 


256         young  man's  book  of  knowledge, 


Sixth  Epocha. — The  Temple. 

It  was  in  the  3702d  year  of  the  Julian  period,  and  480th 
after  the  departure  out  of  Egypt,  and,  to  connect  sacred 
history  with  profane,  72  years  after  the  taking  of  Troy, 

and  264  before  the  building  of  Rome,  that  Solo- 
2992    mon  laid  the  foundation  of  the  temple.  The 

other  particulars  of  his  reign  are  fully  recorded  in 
holy  writ,  where  he  appears  at  once  an  instance  of  all 

that  is  great  and  little  in  human  nature.  Under 
3029    his  son  Rehoboam  Israel  was  parted  into  two 

kingdoms  ;  one  called,  by  way  of  distinction,  the 
kingdom  of  Israel,  and  consisting  of  the  ten  tribes  who 
associated  under  Jeroboam;  the  other,  known  by  the 
name  of  the  kingdom  of  Judah,  composed  of  such  as 
adhered  to  the  house  of  David.  The  kings  of  Egypt 
seem  at  this  time  to  be  very  powerful;  and  many  are  of 
opinion,  that  the  Shisak  of  scripture,  whom  God  made 
use  of  to  punish  the  impieties  of  Rehoboam,  is  the  same 

with  that  famous  conqueror  so  renowned  in  pro- 
3033    fane  history  under  the  name  of  Seostris,    In  the 

reign  of  Abiah,  the  son  of  Rehoboam,  we  see  the 
piety  of  that  prince  rewarded  with  a  memorable  victory 
over  the  revolted  tribes.    In  the  time  of  Asa,  his  son  and 

successor,  Omri  king  of  Israel,  built  Samaria, 
3080    which  thenceforth  became  the  capital  of  that 

kingdom.  Next  follows  the  pious  reign  of  Je- 
hosaphat  in  Judah,  and  the  idolatry  and  impieties  of 
Ahab  and  Jezebel  in  Israel,  with  the  signal  vengeance  of 
heaven  for  the  blood  of  Naboth. — About  this  time  we  are 
to  place  the  foundation  of  Carthage  by  Dido,  who  trans- 
ported a  colony  of  Tyrians  into  Africa,  chose  a  place 
for  her  new  city  conveniently  situated  for  traffic.  The 
mixture  of  Tyrians  and  Africans  contributed  to  making 
it  both  a  warlike  and  a  trading  city,  as  will  appear  in  the 
sequel.  Judah  and  Israel  were  in  the  mean  time  a  scene 
of  amazing  revolutions  and  wonders.  Jehoram,  by  mar- 
rying the  daughter  of  Ahab,  was  seduced  into  the  idolatry 
of  that  wicked  family,  and  drew  down  upon  himself  the 
vengeance  of  heaven.     Jehu  takes  possession  of  the 


HISTORY  AND  CHRONOLOGY. 


257 


throne  of  Israel  and  destroys  the  whole  posterity 
of  Ahab.  Jchorarn,  king  of  Judah,  and  Ahaziah,  3120 
his  son,  with  the  greatest  part  of  the  royal  family, 
are  all  slain  about  the  same  time,  as  allies  and  friends  of 
the  house  of  Ahab.  Athaliah,  upon  hearing  this  news, 
resolves  utterly  to  extinguish  the  house  of  David ;  and, 
putting  to  death  all  that  remained  of  that  family,  even  to 
her  own  children,  usurps  the  crown  of  Judah.  But  Joash, 
preserved  by  the  care  of  Jehoshebah,  his  aunt,  and 
brought  up  privately  in  the  temple  of  Jehoidah  the  high 
priest,  after  six  years  put  an  end  to  the  usurpation  and 
life  of  Athaliah.  Daring  all  this  time,  Elijah  and  Elisha 
were  working  those  wonders  and  miracles  in  Israel, 
which  have  made  their  names  so  famous  in  holy  writ. 
Let  us  now  look  abroad  a  little  into  profane  history, 
which  begins  to  furnish  more  ample  materials,  and  en- 
tertain us  with  the  gradual  rise  of  those  Grecian  com- 
monwealths that  made  so  great  a  figure  in  ancient  times : 
for  during  the  period  we  are  speaking  of,  according  to 
the  most  received  opinion,  flourished  Lycurgus,  the  fa- 
mous Spartan  lawgiver.  The  bounds  we  have  prescribed 
ourselves  in  this  discourse,  will  not  allow  of  our  laying 
before  the  reader  a  scheme  of  those  admirable  institutions 
which  rendered  Lacedeemon  the  most  powerful  and  illus- 
trious city  of  Greece.  They  may  be  read  at  large  in  the 
histories  of  those  times.  We  shall  only  observe,  that  as  it 
was  the  chief  aim  of  this  lawgiver  to  banish  luxury  and 
avarice,  and  introduce  a  warlike  spirit  among  the  people, 
nothing  could  be  more  happily  contrived  for  this  purpose, 
than  his  equal  distribution  of  the  lands  of  the  common- 
wealth, his  prohibition  of  all  gold  and  silver  coin,  and 
that  laborious  temperate  kind  of  life,  habituated  to  the 
exercises  of  war,  in  which  every  citizen  was  trained  up 
from  his  infancy.  In  a  word,  it  is  commendation 
enough  to  say,  that  while  Sparta  adhered  to  the  esta* 
blishments  of  Lycurgus,  she  was  invincible  in  herself, 
and  respected  by  all  the  world.  Some  time  before  Ly« 
curgus,  flourished  Homer  and  Hesiod,  the  two  renowned 
Grecian  poets.  We  see,  in  their  works,  the  amiable 
simplicity  of  those  ancient  times ;  and,  though  history 
has  left  us  very  much  in  the  dark  as  to  the  early  ages 
they  describe,  yet  it  is  abundantly  plain  from  their  wri- 
21* 


258 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE 


tings,  that  the  Greeks  were  by  this  time  a  powerful 
people,  and  had  made  considerable  advances  in  all  the 
different  branches  of  human  learning.  In  Judah,  Joash, 
during  the  life  of  Jehoiada,  ruled  the  people  with  wisdom 
and  justice;  but  after  the  death  of  that  great  man, 

he  became  a  very  tyrant,  insomuch  that  he 
3164    ordered  Zechariah  the  high  priest,  the  son  of  his 

benefactor,  to  be  stoned  to  death.  But  heaven 
did  not  long  defer  vengeance  for  this  act  of  perfidy  and 
ingratitude.  The  year  following,  being  beaten  by  the 
Syrians,  he  fell  into  contempt,  and  was  slain  by  his  own 
servants.  Amaziah,  his  son,  succeeded  him  in  the 
throne.  Meanwhile  the  kingdom  of  Israel,  which 
had  been  greatly  weakened  under  the  successors  of  Jehu, 
by  its  almost  continual  wars  with  the  kings  of  Damascus, 
began  to  recover  and  flourish  by  the  wrise  and  vigorous 
administration  of  Jeroboam  the  Second,  who  exceeded  in 
3179    pietJ  and  valour  all  that  had  gone  before  him. 

Nor  did  Uzziah,  or  Azariah,  the  son  of  Amaziah, 
3194  acquire  less  glory  in  Judah.  In  the  34th  year  of 
g02O  his  reign,  the  famous  computation  by  the  Olym- 
°  piads,  of  which  we  have  already  spoken  in  our 
chronology.  It  is  celebrated  in  history,  not  only  as  being 
the  great  epocha  of  the  Greeks,  but  also  because  here, 
according  to  Varro,  the  fabulous  times  end.  They  are  so 
named  on  account  of  the  many  fables  which  the  poets 
have  interwoven  with  the  transactions  they  describe, 
insomuch  that  it  is  almost  impossible  to  distinguish  truth 
from  falsehood. 

Varro  divided  the  whole  series  of  time  into  three  pe- 
riods. The  first  extended  from  the  creation  of  the  world 
to  the  deluge,  and  is  by  him  called  the  unknown  age, 
their  being  nothing  in  profane  historians  relating  to  that 
time  which  has  any  appearance  of  truth.  The  second 
period  reached  from  the  deluge  to  the  first  Olympiad,  and 
this  is  what  he  stiled  the  fabulous,  for  the  reasons  men- 
tioned above.  The  third  and  last,  beginning  with  the  first 
Olympiad,  wras  carried  down  to  the  age  in  which  that 
author  wrote,  and  may  by  us  be  extended  to  the  present 
times.  He  calls  it  the  historical  period,  because  hence- 
forward the  transactions  of  mankind  are  handed  down  to 
us  by  faithful  and  authentic  relations ;  so  that  the  Olym- 


HISTORY  AND  CHRONOLOGY. 


269 


piads,  while  they  constitute  the  great  epocha  of  the 
Greeks,  are  at  the  same  time  to  be  considered  as  the  sera 
of  true  history.  However,  this  holds  only  in  respect  of 
the  transactions  of  the  heathen  world,  inasmuch  as  holy 
writ  furnishes  a  true  and  authentic  relation  of  the  affairs 
of  the  chosen  people,  from  the  times  of  Abraham  the 
father  and  founder  of  the  Jewish  nation  ;  and  has  even 
traced  things  back,  in  a  general  summary,  to  the  first 
formation  of  the  universe. 

By  this  means  we  have  been  enabled  to  give  the  reader 
a  just  account  of  the  progress  of  human  affairs  ;  and,  de- 
ducing history  from  its  source,  have  preserved  the  chain 
of  ages  unbroken,  and  disposed  of  the  scattered  fragments 
of  profane  history,  according  to  the  true  places  they 
ought  to  possess  in  the  general  course  of  time.  Sacred 
history  is  very  soon  going  to  leave  us ;  but  we  may  esteem 
it  a  happiness,  that,  having  conducted  us  with  certainty 
thus  far,  we  are  arrived  at  a  period  where  the  relations  of 
other  writers  may  be  depended  on.  Thus  the  thread  of 
history  is  continued,  we  see  ages  succeeding  one  another 
in  a  connected  series,  we  can  pursue  the  affairs  of  man- 
kind in  a  just  and  orderly  progression,  from  their  first 
original  to  the  times  in  which  we  live.  But  to  return 
whence  we  digressed.  Azariah  was  succeeded  in  the 
kingdom  of  Judah  by  his  son  Jotham,  who  proved  a  wise 
and  pious  prince.  Israel,  meanwhile,  was  torn  with  in- 
testine divisions.  Shallum  had  slain  Zachariah,  the  son 
of  Jeroboam,  and  usurped  the  crown ;  which,  inspiring 
Menahem  with  hopes  of  gratifying  his  ambition  by  the 
like  means,  he  conspired  against  the  usurped,  and  served 
him  as  he  had  done  his  lawful  prince.  Pul  was 
at  this  time  King  of  Assyria,  who,  taking  advan-  3233 
tages  of  these  disturbances  in  Israel,  advanced 
against  it  with  an  army.  But  Menahem  found  means 
to  satisfy  him  by  a  present  of  a  thousand  talents.  Arch- 
bishop Usher  conjectures  this  Pul  to  have  been  the 
father  of  Sardanapalus,  imagining  that  name  to  imply  as 
much  as  Sardan  the  son  of  Pul.  It  was  in  the  reign  of 
this  Sardanapulus,  that  the  Athenians,  whose  disposition 
was  pushing  them  on  insensibly  to  a  popular  government, 
upon  the  death  of  Alemeon,  the  last  of  their  perpetual  ■ 
arcnons,  retrenched  the  powers  of  these  magistrates,  and 


2  GO 


VOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


limited  their  administration  to  ten  years.  Charops,  was 
the  first  who  held  this  dignity  under  these  restrictions 
But  we  must  now  turn  our  eyes  towards  Italy,  and  take 
a  view  of  the  first  beginnings  of  that  empire,  which  is  in 
time  to  swallow  up  all  the  rest,  and  spread  its  victories  to 
the  remotest  regions  of  the  known  world.  After  the  de- 
struction of  Troy,  iEneas,  gathering  together  a  few  re- 
mains of  his  unhappy  countrymen,  sailed  for  Italy;  where 
marrying  the  daughter  of  King  Latinus,  he  succeeded 
him  in  the  throne,  and  left  it  to  his  posterity.  This  race 
of  Latin  Kings  held  the  sovereignty  for  upwards  of  three 
hundred  years  ;  nor  do  we  read  of  any  remarkable  revolu- 
tion till  the  time  of  Numitor  and  Amulius.  But  then 
Amulius  seizing  upon  the  crown,  to  the  prejudice  of  his 
elder  brother  Numitor,  remained  possessed  of  it  till 
Romulus  and  Remus,  the  sons  of  Illia,  Numitor's 
daughter,  arriving  at  manhood,  restored  their  grandfather 
to  his  inheritance,  and  slew  the  usurper. 


Seventh  epocha. —  The  building  of  Rome. 

The  revolution  was  followed  soon  after  by  the  building* 
of  Rome,  in  the  reign  of  Jotham,  King  of  Judah. 
3250  The  Romans,  (according  to  Plutarch  and  others) 
began  to  build  on  the  21st  of  April.  The  day  was 
then  consecrated  to  Pales,  goddess  of  shepherds;  so  that 
the  festival  of  Pales,  and  that  of  the  foundation  of  the 
city,  were  afterwards  jointly  celebrated  at  Rome  on  the 
same  day.  This  aera,  so  remarkable  in  history,  as^serving 
the  best  of  any  to  direct  us  in  regulating  our  accounts 
of  the  Western  and  European  nations*  is  removed  but  a 
few  years  from  another  of  no  less  note  in  the  eastern 
chronology.  For,  about  six  years  after  the  building  of 
Rome,  according  to  the  computation  of  Varro,  happened 
thedownfal  of  the  Assyrian  monarchy,  occasioned  chiefly 
by  the  effeminacy  of  Sardanapalus.  This  prince,  neglect- 
ing wholly  the  administration  of  public  affairs,  and 
shutting  himself  up  in  his  palace  amongst  his  women  and 
eunuchs,  fell  into  contempt  with  his  subjects  ;  whereupon 
Arbaces,  governor  of  Media,  and  Belesis,  governor  of 
Babylon,  conspiring  against  him,  besieged  him  in  his 


HISTORY  AND  CHRONOLOGY. 


261 


capital,  and  reduced  him  at  last  to  the  necessity  of  perish- 
ing miserably  with  his  wives  and  eunuchs  in  the  flames 
of  his  own  palace.  Upon  the  dissolution  of  this  mighty 
empire,  there  arose  two  others  in  its  stead,  founded  by  the 
two  leaders  of  the  conspiracy.  Belesis  had  Babylon, 
Chaldea,  and  Arabia  ;  and  Arbacas  all  the  rest.  Belesis 
is  the  same  with  Nabonassar,  from  the  beginning  of 
whose  reign  at  Babylon  commences  the  famous  astro- 
nomical eera  we  are  speaking  of,  from  him  called  the 
eera  of  Nabonassar.  For  this  eera  we  are  beholden  to 
Ptolemy's  canon,  which,  beginning  with  Nabonassar, 
carries  down  the  succession  of  the  Babylonian  Kings, 
and  afterwards  of  the  Persian  and  Macedonian,  quite 
beyond  the  birth  of  Christ.  This  canon  is  a  sure 
guide  in  regard  to  the  eastern  chronology,  and  comes 
in  the  most  opportunely  that  can  be  imagined  for  the 
connecting  of  sacred  and  profane  history.  For,  as 
it  commenceth  several  years- before  the  Babylonish  cap- 
tivity, by  which  the  course  of  the  Jewish  history  is 
interrupted,  we  can  here  take  up  the  series,  and  continue 
down  the  account  of  time  with  certainty  to  the  beginning 

of  the  Christian  eera.    The  first  year  of  Nabonas- 
3257    sar  coincides  with  the  seventh  year  of  Rome,  the 

second  of  the  8th  Olympiad,  the  747th  befor§. 
Christ,  and  the  3967th  of  the  Julian  period.  In  the  mean 
time  Ahaz :  having  succeeded  his  father  Jotham  in  the 
kingdom  of  Judah,  was  attacked  by  Rezin,  king  of  Syria, 
and  Pekah,  king  of  Israel  ;  whereupon,  applying  to  the 
king  of  Assyria,  who  is  in  scripture  called  Tiglath-Pileser, 
he  readily  obtained  his  assistance.  This  Tiglath  Pileser 
is  by  some  conjectured  to  be  the  same  with  Arbaces  the 
Mede  ;  but  the  more  probable  opinion  is,  that  he  was  of 
the  royal  familj'  of  Assyria,  his  name  Tiglath-Pul-Assar 
having  a  plain  resemblance  of  Pul  and  Sardum-Pul,  the 
names  of  the  two  former  kings.  It  is  likely,  therefore, 
that  taking  advantage  of  the  confusion  that  followed 
upon  the  dissolution  of  the  Assyrian  monarchy,  and  the 
division  of  it  between  Arbaces  and  Belesis,  he  put  himself 
at  the  head  of  those  who  still  adhered  to  the  house  of  Pul, 
and  getting  possession  of  Nineveh,  there  established  a 
third  empire  for  himself,  while  Arbaces  and  Belesis  were 
employed  in  settling  themselves  in  the  provinces  they  had 


262 


tocng  Man's  boo£  of  knowledge. 


respectively  governed  under  the  former  monarch.  Thus 
we  see  a  second  Assyrian  empire  rising  out  of  the  ruins 
of  the  former,  of  which  Nineveh,  as  before,  remained  the 
capital.  Tiglath-Pileser  coming  with  a  great  army  to  the 
assistance  of  Ahaz,  took  Damascus,  and  entirely  destroy- 
ed the  kingdom  of  Syria,  uniting  it  to  his  own*  He 
likewise  greatly  distressed  that  of  Israel,  and  even  ra 
vaged  the  territories  of  his  friend  and  ally,  king  Aha 2* 
By  this  means  Were  the  kings  of  Assyria  first  introduced 
into  Palestine,  which,' finding  to  lie  convenient  for  them, 
they  resolved  to  make  a  part  of  their  empire.  They  be- 
gan with  the  kingdom  of  Israel,  which  Salmane- 
ser,  the  son  and  successor  of  Tiglath-Pileser,  en-  3283 
tirely  subdued,  throwing  Hosea,  the  king  thereof, 
into  prison,  and  carrying  the  people  into  captivity.  About 
this  time  died  Romulus,  the  first  king  of  Rome,  after  a 
reign  of  37  years.  He  was  all  his  life  engaged  in  wars, 
and  always  returned  from  them  victorious.  But  this 
hindered  him  not  from  attending  both  to  the  civil  and 
religious  establishment  of  his  new  colonj7,  where  he  laid 
the  first  foundation  of  those  laws  and  institutions 
that  contributed  so  much  to  the  advancement  of  3290 
the  Roman  empire.  A  long  and  uninterrupted 
peace  gave  Numa  his  successor  an  opportunity  of  finish- 
ing his  work,  by  softening  the  mannei  s  of  the  people,  and 
bringing  their  religion  into  a  more  exact  form.  In  this 
time  several  colonies  from  Corinth  and  other  parts  of 
Greece,  built  Syracuse  in  Sicily  ;  and  likewise  Crotona 
and  Tarentum,  in  that  part  of  Italy  called  Magna  Greeeia 
by  reason  of  the  many  Greek  colonies  already  settled 
there.  Meanwhile  Hezekiah  had  succeeded  Ahaz  in  the 
throne  of  Judah.  He  was  a  prince  renowned  for  piety 
and  justice  ;  and  so  much  the  favourite  of  heaven,  that  it 
interposed  in  a  miraculous  manner  both  in  recovering 
him  from  a  remarkable  sickness,  and  delivering  him  from 
the  menaces  of  Sennacherib,  king  of  Assyria.  But 
Manasseh,  his  son,  not  treading  in  his  steps,  was  sold 
into  the  hands  of  Esarhaddon,  the  successor  of  Sen- 
nacherib. This  prince  was  wise  and  politic;  he  re- 
united the  kingdom  of  Babylon  to  that  of  Nineveh,  and 
by  his  many  conquests,  equalled,  if  not  exceeded,  in 
extent  of  dominion,  the  ancient  Assyrian  monarchs 


tfiSTORY  AND  CHitOttOLOGY 


203 


While  Esarhaddon  was  thus  enlarging  his  empire,  the 
Medes  were  beginning  to  render  themselves  considerable 
by  the  wise  administration  of  Deioces,  their  first  king* 
He  had  been  raised  to  the  throne  on  account  of  his  virtue, 

and  put  an  end  to  the  disorders  occasioned  by 
3296    the  anarchy  under  which  his  countrymen  then 

lived.  He  built  the  city  of  Echatana,  and  laid  the 
foundations  of  a  mighty  empire.  Rome  begins  now  to 
increase  in  power  and  territory,  though  by  slow  advances 

at  first.  Under  Tullus  Hostilius,  her  third  king, 
3332    and  in  the  83d  year  of  the  city,  happened  the 

famous  combat  of  the  Horatii  and  Curiattii,  by 
which  Alba  was  subjected,  aud  its  citizens  incorporated 

with  the  victorious  Romans.  At  this  period  begins 
3334    the  reign  of  Psammitichus,  in  Egypt.  It  had  some 

time  before  been  divided  into  twelve  parts,  over 
which  reigned  twelve  princes,  who  as  a  monument  of 
their  union,  built  the  famous  labyrinth.  But  Psam* 
mitichus,  who  was  one  of  them,  incurring  the  jealousy  of 
the  rest,  they  expelled  him  ;  whereupon  he  drew  an  army 
together,  subdued  and  dethroned  the  eleven  confederate 
princes,  and  seized  on  the  whole  kingdom  for  himself. 
As  the  Ionians  and  Carians  had  been  very  serviceable  to 
him  in  this  revolution,  he  granted  them  an  establishment 
in  Egypt,  hitherto  inaccessible  to  strangers.  On  this 
occasion  began  the  first  commerce  between  the  Egyp- 
tians and  Greeks,  which  as  it  was  ever  after  constantly 
kept  up,  we  are  to  account  this,  according  to  Herodotus, 
the  Eera  of  true  Egyptian  history,  all  that  goes  before  being 

so  darkened  by  the  fables  and  inventions  of  the 
3348    priests,  that  it  seems  very  little  worthy  of  credit. 

In  Media,  Phraortes  succeeded  his  father  Deioces, 
and  after  a  reign  of  32  years  left  the  kingdom  to  his 
son  Cyaxares,  in  whose  time  happened  the  irruption 
of  the  Scythians,  who,  vanquishing  Cyaxares  in  battle, 
dispossessed  him  of  all  the  Upper  Asia,  and  reigned 
there  twenty-eight  years.  In  Judah,  Ammon  succeeding 
Manasseh,  after  a  short  reign,  left  the  kingdom  to  his 
son  Josiah,  who  proved  a  pious  prince,  and  thoroughly 
reformed  the  Jewish  state.  Rome,  in  the  mean  time, 
was  enlarging  her  territories  under  her  fourth  king, 
Ancus  Marcuis,  and  by  the  wise  establishment  of  in* 


264 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


corporating  the  conquered  nations,  increased  in  power 
and  the  number  of  her  citizens.    Babylon,  we  have  seen, 
had  been  re-united  to  Nineveh,  and  so  continued  till  the 
reign  of  Chiniladan  ;  but  he  proving  an  effeminate  prince, 
Nabopollasar,  whom  he  had  made  general  of  his  armies 
against  Cyaxares  the  Mede,  rebelled  against  him,  and 
joining  with  Astyages,  the  son  of  Cyaxares,  in- 
vested Nineveh,  took  the  place,  and  slew  his  3378 
master  Chiniladan,  called  otherwise  Saracus. — 
After  which,  to  gratify  the  Medes,  he  utterly  destroyed 
that  great  and  ancient  city ;  and  from  that  time  Babylon 
became  the  sole  metropolis  of  the  Assyrian  empire.  Na- 
bopollasar was  succeeded  by  his  son  Nebuchadnezzar,  a 
prince  renowned  in  history,  and  who,  by  his 
mighty  conquests,  both  in  the  east  and  west,  raised  3397 
Babylon  to  be  the  metropolis  of  the  world.  By 
him  was  Jerusalem  taken  three  several  times,  and  at  last 
totally  destroyed  ;  the  whole  people  of  Judah  being  led 
into  bondage  by  the  conqueror.    This  is  the  famous 
Babylonish  captivity  of  seventy  years,  so  often  mentioned 
in  the  writings  of  the  prophets.    Greece  was  at  this  time 
in  a  very  flourishing  way,  and  began  to  discover  her  ac- 
quirements in  learning  and  the  polite  arts.    Her  seven 
gages  rendered  her  famous ;  and  Solon,  by  the  wise 
laws  which  he  established  at  Athens,  reconciling  3410 
liberty  and  justice,  introduced  such  regulations 
among  the  citizens  as  naturally  conduced  to  the  forming 
them  a  brave  and  knowing  people.    Tarquinis  Priscua 
now  reigned  at  Rome.    He  subdued  part  of  Tuscany  ; 
and  having  adorned  the  city  with  many  magni- 
ficent works,  left  the  throne  to  Servius  Tullius.  3425 
This  prince  is  famous  for  the  institution  of  the 
census,  and  the  many  laws  he  made  in  favour  of  the 
people.    In  Egypt,  Psamittichus,  after  a  reign  of  54 
years,  was  succeeded  by  his  son  Nechus.  the  same 
who  in  scripture  is  called  Pharaoh  Necho.    It  3394 
was  against  him  that  Josiah,  king  of  Judah  fought 
that  unhappy  battle  in  the  valley  of  Megiddo,  where  he 
received  the  fatal  wound  of  which  he  died.  Nechus 
was  succeeded  by  Psammis,  who  left  the  kingdom  to 
his  son  Apries,  the  Pharaoh  Hophra  of  the  scripture, 
against  whom  so  many  prophecies  are  levelled.  The 


HISTORY  AND  CHRONOLOGY. 


first  year  of  Apries  was  the  last  of  Cya*ares, 
84 10    King  of  the  Medes,  who,  after  a  reign  of  40  years, 
was  succeeded  by  his  son  Astyages.  Nebu- 
chadnezzar in  Babylon,  having  finished  all  his  expe^ 
ditions,  and  greatly  enriched  himself  with  the 
3434    spoils  of  the  conquered  nations,  set  himself  to 
adorn  that  city,  and  raised  all  those  stupendous 
works  about  it,  of  which  we  read  with  so  much  wonder 
in  ancient  history.    Evilmerodach,  his  son,  after  a  short 
reign  of  two  years,  becoming  intolerable  even  to 
8444    his  own  relations,  they  conspired  against  him, 
and  slew  him.    Neriglissar,  his  sister's  husband, 
who  headed  the  conspiracy',  succeeded  him.   About  this 


Athens,  which  he  held  with  various  changes  of  fortune 
thirty  years,  and  even  left  it  to  his  children.  The  Medes 
meanwhile  were  increasing  in  power  under  Astyages, 
which  rousing  the  jealousy  of  Neriglissar,  King  of  Ba- 
bylon, he  declared  war  against  them.  Astyages  dying, 
leaves  both  the  kingdom  and  the  care  of  the  war  to 
Gy axares  his  son,  called  by  Daniel,  Darius  the  Mede. 
As  the  war  wherewith  he  was  threatened  was  very  for- 
midable, he  applied  to  the  King  of  Persia,  who  had  mar- 
ried his  sister  Mandana,  for  assistance.  Cambyses  sent 
a  good  body  of  troops,  and  with  them  Cyrus  his 
son,  nephew  to  Cyaxares,  whom  that  prince  ap-  3445 
pointed  general  of  his  armies  against  the  King  of 
Babylon.  Cyrus  was  a  young  prince  of  great  hopes, 
and  had  already  given  signal  proofs  of  courage  and  con- 
duct in  several  former  wars  under  Astyages  his  grand- 
father. But  his  virtues  are  now  going  to  display  them- 
selves in  all  their  lustre,  and  present  us  with  the  picture 
of  a  hero,  who,  by  a  train  of  the  most  glorious  actions, 
has  justly  merited  to  be  handed  down  to  posterity  as  a 
pattern  of  all  that  is  truly  great  and  praiseworthy  in  the 
character  of  a  prince  and  a  ruler.  The  very  name  of 
Cyrus  carried  such  a  weight  and  authority  with  it  as  to 
draw  into  the  alliance  of  Cyaxares  almost  all  the  Kings 
of  the  East,  nor  was  it  long  before  he  gave  proofs  of  that 
merit  which  was  already  so  universally  ascribed  to  him ; 
for  having  by  his  superior  abilities  in  the  art  of  war, 
vanquished  the  King  of  Babylon,  and  Croesus,  his  allyf 


time  Pisistratus 


sovereign  authority  at 


22 


266     .   young  man's  book  of  knowledge 

in  battle,  he  pursued  his  advantage  over  the  latter,  sur- 
rounded him  in  his  capital,  and  got  possession  both  of  hi3 
kingdom  and  immense  riches.  With  the  same 
expedition  he  subdued  the  other  allies  of  the  King  345G 
of  Babylon,  made  himself  master  of  all  Asia 
Minor,  and  extended  his  conquests  even  into  Syria.  In 
fine,  he  marched  against  Babjrlon  itself,  took  that  mighty 
city,  and  thereby  became  master  of  the  whole  Assyrian 
empire,  which  he  put  under  the  dominion  and  authority 
of  his  uncle  Cyaxares ;  who  now,  equally  touched  with 
this  signal  proof  of  his  fidelity,  as  before  with  his  glorious* 
exploits,  gave  him  his  only  daughter  in  marriage.  Cy- 
axares dying  within  two  years,  as  likewise  Carnbyses, 
King  of  Persia,  Cyrus  succeeded  to  the  whole  monarchy. 
In  this  manner  was  the  empire  of  the  East  transferred 
from  the  Assyrians  to  the  Medes  and  Persians.  But  as 
Gyrus  was  himself  a  Persian,  and  all  his  successors  after 
him  of  the  same  nation,  hence  it  has  happened,  that  this 
second  great  empire,  as  it  ought  to  be  accounted,  obtains 
in  ancient  history  the  name  of  the  Persian  monarchy ; 
Cyrus,  and  not  Cyaxares  being  the  reputed  founder 
thereof.  And,  indeed,  when  we  consider  that  Cyrus 
fadone  headed  the  Medes  during  this  long  war,  that  it  was 
J%his  valour  and  wisdom  they  were  indebted  for  all  their 
conquests,  and  that  he  in  person  took  the  great  city  of 
Babylon,  it  seems  but  just  to  ascribe  to  him  the  honour  of 
this  whole  revolution.  For  these  reasons  we  have  chosen 
to  date  the  beginning  of  this  second  great  empire,  not 
from  the  taking  of  Babylon,  but  from  the  succession  of 
Cyrus,  who  alone  can  with  justice  be  accounted  the 
founder  thereof. 


Eighth  epocka. —  The  reign  of  Cyrus. 

In  the  4178th  year  of  the  Julian  period,  218  years 
after  the  building  of  Rome,  and  536  before  the  birth  of 
Christ,  Cyrus  succeeding  to  the  throne  of  Cyaxares,  and 
becoming  sole  monarch  of  all  the  east,  here  we  are  to  fix 
the  beginning  of  the  Persian  empire.  In  the  first  year 
of  his  reign  he  published  the  famous  decree  for 
re-building  the  temple  of  Jerusalem ;  the  seventy  3469 


HiSf  ORY  AND  CHftOXOLOGY. 


26? 


years  captivity  being  now  jcompleted,  according  as  hod 
been  foretold  by  the  prophets.  Servius  Tullius  still 
Feigned  at  Rome.  He  had  greatly  enlarged  the  city* 
and  by  his  rnild  and  popular  administration  was  become 
the  darling  of  his  subjects.  This  excellent  prince  fell  a 
sacrifice  at  last  to  the  perfidy  of  his  own  daughter, 
and  the  ambitious  designs  of  his  son-in-law,  Tar-  3470 
quin  the  Proud,  who  succeeded  him  in  the  throne* 
Cyrus,  after  a  rehjn  of  seven  years,  left  his  king-  3475 
dom  to  his  son  Cambyses.  Under  him  the  Per- 
sians enlarged  their  empire  by  the  conquest  of  Egypt, 
He  proved,  however,  a  very  brutal  prince,  unworthy  to 
fill  the  throne  of  Cyrus.  His  brother,  Smerdis,  he  or- 
dered to  be  killed  privately,  on  account  of  a  suspicious 
dream  that  had  disturbed  his  fancy.  He  did  not  long 
survive  him,  and  upon  his  death  Smerdis,  the  Magian, 
usurped  the  throne,  under  the  pretence  of  being  the  true 
Smerdis,  the  son  of  Cyrus.  However,  the  cheat  was 
soon  discovered,  which  gave  occasion  to  the  fa- 
mous confederacy  of  the  seven  noblemen,  the  3483 
result  of  which  was,  that  Darius,  the  son  of  Hys- 
taspes,  was  raised  to  the  Persian  throne.  During  the 
reign  of  this  prince,  Athens  recovered  its  liberty.  Har- 
modius  and  Aristogiton  delivered  their  country 
from  the  tyranny  of  Hipparchus,  the  son  of  Pisis-  3494 
tratus,  by  slaying  the  tyrant ;  and  Hippias,  his 
brother,  was  obliged  to  throw  himself  into  the  arms  of 
Darius.  This  was  what  gave  rise  to  the  wars  between 
the  Persians  and  the  Greeks.  From  hence  we  are'  to: 
date  the  mighty  glory  of  Athens.  We  shall  soon  see 
this  small  commonwealth  an  over-match  for  all  the  power 
of  the  East ;  so  true  it  is,  that  liberty  ennobles  the  mind, 
and  affords  the  truest  foundation  whereon  to  build  the 
grandeur  of  a  state.  About  the  time  of  this  revolution 
at  Athens,  happened  another  of  the  like  nature  at  Rome. 
Tarquin,  by  his  violence  and  arbitrary  measures,  had 
rendered  the  royal  power  odious,  and  the  attempt  of  his 
son  Sextus  upon  Lucretia,  completed  the  public  indig- 
nation. The  people,  animated  by  the  speeches  and 
heroic  behaviour  of  Brutus,  shake  off  the  regal  tyranny, 
and  declare  themselves  a  free  state.  This  sera  of  the 
Roman  liberty  eomrnenceth   from   the    244th  year 


268 


young  man's  book  of  knowledge. 


after  the  building;  of  the  city.  ■  Tarquin,  however,  3496 
found  means  to  draw  in  several  neighbouring 
princes  to  espouse  his  quarrel,  among  whom  Porsenna, 
king  of  the  Clusians,  bears  the  most  distinguished  name 
in  history.  It  is  upon  this  occasion  that  the  Romans  first 
began  to  discover  that  noble  ardour  for  liberty,  that  in- 
violable love  of  their  country,  which  make  a  bright  part 
of  the  character  of  that  renowned  people.  Here  we  may 
read  of  the  astonishing  valour  of  Horatius  Codes,  the 
intrepid  spirit  of  Sceevola,  and  the  masculine  boldness  of 
Clelia*  Porsenna,  admiring  the  bravery  of  the  Romans, 
would  not  any  longer  disturb  them  in  the  enjoyment  of  a 
libertjr  to  which  their  merit  gave  them  so  just  a  title. — 
But  they  who  could  not  be  overcome  by  any  foreign  force, 
had  well  nigh  ruined  themselves  by  their  intestine  divi* 
sions.  The  jealousy  between  the  patricians  and  plebeians 
rose  to  that  height,  that  the  latter  retired  from  the  city* 
and  intrenched  themselves  upon  a  hill,  called  afterwards 
Mans  Sacer.  However,  the  mild  persuasions  of  Menenius 
Agrippa,  and  the  concession  made  by  the  senate  of  new 
plebian  magistrates,  whose  office  it  was  to  protect  the 
people  against  the  consuls,  appeased  their  discontents, 
and  restored  tranquility  to  the  state.  The  law  appointing 
the  institution  of  these  magistrates  was  called  the  sacred 
law,  and  the  magistrates  themselves  had  the  title  of 
tribunes  of  the  people.  This  remarkable  revolution  hap- 
pened in  the  260th  year  of  the  city.  Hippias,  we 
have  seen,  had  retired  into  Persia,  and  was  soli-  3510 
citing  Darius  to  make  war  upon  the  Athenians. 
He  at  length  prevailed,  and  Mardonius  was  sent  3514 
with  a  numerous  army  against  them.  But  Mil-  • 
tiades,  with  a  handful  of  men,  gave  the  Persians  battle 
on  the  plains  of  Marathon,  and  entirely  routed  them. 
This  victory  is  the  most  renowned  in  ancient  history,  for 
the  Athenians  did  not  exceed  ten  thousand,  and  the 
Persians  have  been  computed  at  twenty  times  their  num- 
ber. At  Rome  the  feuds  between  the  nobility  and  the 
people  still  subsisted.  The  banishment  of  Coriolanus  had 
well  nigh  proved  fatal  to  the  commonwealth  which 
owed  its  deliverance  from  the  imminent  danger  3516 
that  threatened  it  to  the  tears  of  the  incensed 
hero's  mother.  In  the  mean  time,  Xerxes  succeed- 


HISTORY  AND  CHRONOLOGY. 


209 


ing  Darius  in  the  throne  of  Persia,  prepared  to  fully 
revenge  the  defeat  at  Marathon,  by  a  new  expedition 
against  Greece.  He  is  said  to  have  been  followed  in  this 
attempt  by  an  army  of  sventeen  hundred  thousand 
men.  Leonidas,  king  of  Sparta,  with  only  three  3524 
hundred  Lacedemonians,  encountered  his  whole 
force  in  the  straights  of  Thermopilse.  For  three  days  he 
made  good  the  passes  against  the  numerous  army  of  the 
Persians;  but  being  at  length  surrounded,  he  and  his  fol- 
lowers were  all  slain  upon  the  spot.  By  the  wise  counsels 
of  Themistocles,  the  Athenian  admiral,  the  naval  army 
of  the  Persians  was  this  same  year  vanquished  near 
Salamis ;  and  Xerxes,  in  great  fear,  repassed  the  Helle- 
spont, leaving  the  command  of  his  land  forces  to 
Mardonius.  But  he,  too,  the  year  after,  was  cut  3525 
in  pieces  with  his  whole  army  near  Platsea,  by 
Pausanias,  king  of  the  Lacedemonians,  and  Aristides, 
sumamed  the  Just,  general  of  the  Athenians.  The  battle 
was  fought  in  the  morning,  and  the  evening  of  the  same 
same  day  their  naval  forces  obtained  a  memorable  victory 
over  the  remainder  of  the  Persian'  fleet  at  Mycle,  a 
promontory  on  the  continent  of  Asia. — Thus  ended  all 
the  great  designs  of  Xerxes  in  a  miserable  disappoint- 
ment, and  the  utter  destruction  of  that  prodigious  army 
with  which  the  year  before  he  had  marched  so  proudly 
over  the  Hellespont.  The  Carthagenians,  by  this  time 
a  powerful  people,  had  been  engaged  by  Xerxes  to  fall 
upon  the  Greek  colonies  in  Sicily,  while  he  was  employ- 
ed against  them  in  their  own  country ;  but  they  had  no 
better  success  than  the  Persian  monarch,  and  being 
shamefully  beaten,  were  obliged  to  abandon  the  island, 
Xerxes,  dying  after  a  reign  of  21  years,  was  suc- 
ceeded in  his  kingdom  byArtaxerxes  Longimanus.  3540 
He  is  generally  supposed  to  be  the  king  from 
whom  Nehemiah  received  the  commission  to  restore  and 
rebuild  Jerusalem.  But  it  is  now  time  to  turn  our 
thoughts  a  little  towards  the  Romans,  who,  having  been 
formed  under  kings,  were  but  ill  provided  with  laws 
suited  to  the  constitution  of  a  republic.  The  reputation 
of  Greece,  yet  more  renowned  for  the  wisdom  of  its  go- 
vernment than  the  fame  of  its  victories,  determined  the 
Romans  to  draw  up  a  scheme  of  laws  upon  their  model 
22* 


270 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


Deputies  were  therefore  sent  to  examine  into  the  consti- 
tution of  the  several  Greek  cites,  particularly 
3554  those  of  Athens,  whose  plan  of  government  seemed 
to  have  a  greater  resemblance  with  that  of  Rome. 
Ten  magistrates  were  elected,  with  absolute  authority,  to 
carry  this  design  into  execution.  The  Decemvirs  ac- 
cordingly composed  a  body  of  laws,  which  having 
digested  into  twelve  tables,  they  were  proposed  to  the 
people,  and  received  their  approbation.  It  was  natural 
to  think,  that  these  magistrates,  having  finished  the 
business  for  which  they  were  chosen,  would,  upon  the 
expiration  of  their  term  of  power,  have  resigned  their 
offices,  and  suffered  the  government  to  return  to  its 
former  course.  But  it  seems  they  found  too  many 
charms  in  authority  to  quit  it  so  readily;  they  aimed  at 
no  less  than  perpetuating  their  command,  and  vainly 
thought  to  entail  slavery  upon  a  state  whose  prevailing 
passion  was  love  of  liberty.  Power  usurped  by  unlawful 
means  seldom  abstains  from  violence  and  excesses  ;  and 
the  very  methods  taken  to  establish  it,  prove  often  in  the 
end  the  cause  of  its  destruction.  And  so  it  happened 
here ;  for,  the  Decemvirs  declining  from  that  moderation 
by  which  they  had,  in  the  beginning  of  their  authority, 
recommended  themselves  to  the  favour  of  the  people,  a 
general  discontent  arose;  and  the  iniquitous  decree  of 
Appius,  whereby  he  reduced  a  farther  to  the  cruel  neces- 
sity of  murdering  his  own  daughter,  so  effectually  roused 
the  ancient  Roman  spirit,  that  disdaining  to  submit  any 
longer  to  these  oppressors,  they  abolished  the  Decemvi- 
rate,  and  restored  the  authority  of  the  consuls.  Thus  did 
the  blood  of  Virginia  produce  a  revolution  in  the  Roman 
state,  not  unlike  what  had  before  happened  in  the  case 
of  Lucretia.  About  this  time,  Cymon,  the  Athenian  ge- 
neral, rendered  himself  famous  by  his  many  victories  over 
the  Persians,  insomuch  that  Artaxerxes,  weary  of  so  de- 
structive a  war,  signed  a  treaty  of  peace  highly  to  the 
honour  and  advantage  of  Greece.  He  had  resolved  to 
pursue  a  different  scheme  of  politics;  and,  instead  of 
drawing  their  whole  forces  upon  himself,  endeavoured 
to  weaken  them  by  fomenting  their  intestine  divisions. 

The  war  that  soon  after  broke  out  between  the 
3573    Athenians  and  Lacedemonians,  made  him  sensi 


• 

HISTORY  AND  CHRONOLOGY. 


271 


ble  of  the  advantages  that  might  accrue  from  such  a 
line  of  conduct.  It  was  during  this  war,  described  at 
large  by  Thucydides  and  Xenophon,  and  known  in  his- 
tory under  the  name  of  the  Peloponesian  war,  that  we 
read  of  Pericles,  Alcibiades,  Thrasybulus,  Conon,  Brasi- 
das,  and  Lysander.  So  many  illustrious  men,  all  flourish- 
ing in  the  same  age,  contributed  to  raise  Greece  to  the 
highest  pitch  of  glory,  and  spread  her  fame  to  the  most 
distant  nations.  This  fatal  war,  after  it  had 
lasted  27  years,  ended  at  length  in  the  taking  of  3600 
Athens  by  Lysander,  who  had  found  means  to 
draw  into  the  party  of  Lacedemonians,  Darius  Nothus1 
the  son  and  successor  of  Artaxerxes.  But,  the  Persians 
soon  became  sensible  of  the  error  they  had  committed,  in 
making  the  Lacedemonians  too  powerful,:  for 
that  ambitious  republic,  having  now  no  rival  to  3603 
fear,  began  to  extend  its  view  to  Asia,  and  even 
promoted  the  expedition  of  young  Cyrus  against  his  bro- 
ther Artaxerxes  Menmon,  who  had  succeeded  Darius 
Nothus.  This  ambitious  prince  fell  in  battle  by  his  own 
rashness,  and  left  the  ten  thousand  Greeks  who  served 
under  him  exposed  to  all  the  dangers  of  war  in  an  un- 
known country,  several  hundreds  of  miles  distant  from 
their  own  homes,  and  surrounded  on  every  side  with 
numerous  armies.  There  is  not  any  thing  in  history 
more  celebrated  than  this  retreat,  which  has  been  handed 
down  to  us  by  Xenophon,  who  himself  conducted  it,  and 
was  one  of  the  ablest  commanders,  and  greatest  phi- 
losophers, of  his  time.  Thus  were  the  Greeks 
first  made  sensible  of  the  real  weakness  of  the  3608 
Persian  empire,  hitherto  deemed  so  formidable ; 
and  the  exploits  of  Agesilaus,  in  Asia,  soon  after,  where 
he  bade  fair  for  overturning  that  mighty  monarchy, 
had  he  not  been  recalled  by  the  unhappy  divisions  of  his 
country,  were  a  plain  proof  that  nothing  was  wanting 
but  a  good  general  and  union  among  themselves,  to  com- 
plete the  conquest  of  the  east.  Rome  was  ren- 
dering herself  formidable  to  all  the  nations  around  3610 
her ;  and  Vei,  one  of  the  strongest  and  most  opu- 
lent cities  in  Italy,  was  taken  by  Camillus,  after  a  siege 
of  ten  years.  But  this  great  increase  of  territory  was 
soon  followed  by  a  fatal  calamity,  that  brought  the  repub- 


272        young  man's  book  of  knowledge, 

lie  to  the  brink  of  ruin  ;  we  mean  the  irruption  of 
3615  the  Gauls,  who  defeated  the  Roman  army;  and 
advancing  against  the  city  itself,  laid  it  in  ashes 
in  the  363d  year  after  it  had  been  founded  by  Romulus. 
Such  of  the  senators  and  nobles  as  chose  to  survive  the 
ruin  of  their  country,  retired  into  the  capital  with  Manlius, 
where  they  resolutely  defended  themselves,  till  they  were 
relieved  by  Camillus,  whose  ill  usage  and  banishment 
•  had  not  diminished  his  regard  to  his  country.  Thus  was 
Rome  again  restored  to  her  former  splendor,  by  the  con- 
duct and  bravery  of  that  great  man.  In  Greece  the 
Lacedemonian  power  begun  to  decline ;  and  Thebes, 
which  hitherto  made  no  figure  in  the  history  of  that  na- 
tion, raised  herself  to  the  highest  pitch  of  glory  by  the  wis- 
dom and  valour  of  Epaminondas.  This  general  is  one 
of  the  most  illustrious  characters  of  antiquity.  He  was 
possessed  in  an  eminent  degree  of  all  the  virtues  requisite 
in  a  warrior  and  a  statesman.  Nor  was  he  less  distin- 
guished by  his  abilities  as  a  philosopher,  and  his  amiable 
qualities  in  private  life;  insomuch  that  historians  unani- 
mously represent  him  as  a  pattern  of  all  that  is  great  and 
excellent  in  human  nature.  Thebes,  after  his  death,  lost 
that  conspicuous  figure  he  had  given  her,  and  was  no 
longer  able  to  maintain  her  reputation.  Indeed  all 
Greece  is  going  to  submit  to  a  new  power,  which,  begin- 
ning in  Philip,  rose  at  last  to  the  dominion  of  all  Asia 
under  his  son  and  successor  Alexander.  This  Philip 
was  King  of  Macedon,  and  had  been  bred  up  under 
Epaminondas.  As  he  was  of  an  enterprising  genius,  and 
gave  early  proofs  of  his  unbounded  ambition,  all  the 
neighbouring  powers  set  themselves  to  oppose  his  grow- 
ing greatness.  But  though  Ochus,  and  his  son  Arses, 
Kings  of  Persia,  did  their  utmost  to  thwart  his  designs; 
though  the  Athenians,  roused  by  the  eloquence  of  De- 
mosthenes, that  intrepid  defender  of  his  country's  liberties, 
drew  almost  all  Greece  into  a  confederacy  against  him ; 
he,  notwithstanding,  triumphed  over  every  difficulty,  and 
the  victory  of  Choronea,  rendered  him  absolute  in  all  the 
Grecian  states.  He  was  now  forming  the  plan  of 
3665  an  expedition  into  the  east ;  and  had  projected  no- 
thing less  than  the  total  overthrow  of  the  Persian 
ernpiret  when  an  untimely  def*th  hurried  him  out  of  the 


HISTORY  AND  CHRONOLOGY. 


273 


world.  Alexander,  surnamed  the  Great,  his  son, 
succeeded  him ;  a  prince,  who  from  his  earliest  3668 
years  had  given  proofs  of  an  heroic  soul,  that 
seemed  destined  for  the  conquest  of  the  universe.  Much 
about  the  same  time,  Darius  Codomannus  ascended  the 
throne  of  Persia.  He  had  in  a  private  station  distinguished 
himself  by  his  valour  and  prudence :  but  it  being  his  fate 
to  encounter  the  prevailing  fortune  of  Alexander,  all  his 
efforts  proved  insufficient  to  support  him  against  that  for- 
midable rival.  For  Alexander,  having  first  settled  the 
affiiirs  of  Greece,  over-ran  Asia  Minor  with  amazing 
rapidity,  defeated  Darius  in  three  pitched  battles ;  and, 
upon  the  death  of  that  prince,  who  was  treacherously 
slain  by  Bessus,  became  sole  monarch  of  all  the  east. 


Ninth  epocha — Alexander  ike  Great. 

Here  then  begins  our  9th  epocha,  not  from  Alexander's 
succession  to  the  throne  of  Macedonia,  but  from  the 
death  of  Darius,  in  whom  the  Persian  empire  ended. 
For  Alexander  pursuing  his  victories  with  the  utmost 
expedition,  and  having  made  himself  master  of 
almost  all  the  provinces  of  the  east,  became  3674 
thereby  the  founder  of  the  third,  or  Macedonian 
empire.  This  happened  in  the  4384th  year  of  the  Julian 
period,  424  years  after  the  building  of  Rome,  and  330 
before  the  birth  of  Christ.  During  this  victorious  pro- 
gress of  Alexander,  Rome  was  engaged  in  a  long  war 
with  the  Samnites,  whom  after  many  battles  she  at 
length  subdued,  chiefly  by  the  valour  and  conduct 
of  Papirius  Cursor,  one  of  the  greatest  generals  of  3681 
his  time.  Alexander  still  continuing  his  con- 
quests, penetrated  as  far  as  India,  and  returning  to  Ba- 
bylon, there  died  in  the  33d  year  of  his  age.  After  his 
death,  his  empire  'was  variously  divided  among  his  fol- 
lowers. Perdiccas,  Ptolemy,  the  son  of  Lagus,  Antigo- 
nus,  Seleucus,  Lysimachus,  Antipater,  and  his  son 
Cassander,  who  had  been  all  commanders  under  this 
great  conqueror,  and  learned  from  him  the  art  of  war, 
formed  a  design  of  rendering  themselves  masters  of  the 
several  provinces  over  which  they  were  constituted  go- 


274 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


vernors.  They  sacrificed  to  their  ambition  the  whole 
family  of  Alexander ;  his  brother,  his  mother,  his  wives, 
his  children,  and  even  his  sisters.  Nothing  was  to  be 
seen  but  wars,  bloodshed,  and  ceaseless  revolutions. 
During  these  disorders  several  places  of  Asia  Minor  shook 
off  the  Macedonian  yoke,  and  established  themselves 
into  independent  kingdoms.  In  this  manner,  were  the 
realms  of  Pontus,  Bithynia,  and  Pergamus  formed, 
which,  by  their  advantageous  situation,  and  a  steady 
application  to  traffic,  rose  afterwards  to  great  wealth  and 
power.  Armenia  too  about  the  same  time  became  a  dis- 
tinct kingdom ;  and  Mithridates,  with  his  son  of-  the 
same  name,  founded  that  of  Cappadocia.  But  the  two 
most  considerable  monarchies  that  arose  upon  this  occa- 
sion were  that  of  Egypt,  founded  by  Ptolemy  the  son  of 
Lagus,  and  that  of  Asia,  or  Sj7ria,  founded  by  Seleucus ; 
for  these  continued  steady  and  permanent,  and  were  in- 
herited by  their  posterity,  the  Ptolemies  and  Seleucidee, 
for  many  years.  Thus  was  all  the  east  subject  to 
Greece,  and  received  its  language  and  customs,  insomuch 
that,  though  it  was  not  under  the  dominion  of  one  prince, 
as  formerly,  yet  the  Greeks  universally  bearing  sway  in 
those  several  principalities  into  which  it  was  divided, 
this  hath  seemed  a  sufficient  reason  to  historians  for 
stiling  the  times  we  are  speaking  of  the  period  of  the 
Grecian  or  Macedonian  empire.  In  Greece  we  meet 
with  nothing  but  a  continued  train  of  revolutions.  Cas- 
sander,  Pyrrhus,  King  of  Epirus,  Demetrius  Poliocertes, 
Lysimachus,  and  Seleucus,  reigned  successively  in  Ma- 
cedonia ;  each  establishing  himself  by  the  expulsion  of 
his  predecessor.  The  Romans  were  all  this  while  ex- 
tending their  conquests  in  Italy,  and  having  subdued  the 
Samnites,  Brutians,  and  Hetrurians,  threatened  Taren- 
tum  with  the  same  yoke.  The  Tarentines,  finding 
themselves  too  weak  to  resist  that  powerful  republic,  cast 
their  eyes  upon  Pyrrhus,  King  of  Epirus,  whose  great 
military  fame  made  them  believe  they  should  be  invinci- 
ble under  so  renowned  a  commander.  Pyrrhus 
3725  obtained  two  successive  victories  over  the  Romans, 
but  in  the  end  was  beaten  by  the  Consul  Curius, 
and  forced  to  abandon  Italy.  Antigonus  Gonatus  got 
full  possession  of  the  throne  of  Macedonia,  and  left  it 


HISTORY  AND  CHRONOLOGY. 


275 


3732  to  his  posterity,  though  not  without  great  oppo- 
sition from  Pyn-hus,  who  was  killed  at  length  at 
Argos,  by  a  tile  thrown  from  a  housetop.  The  Achean 
league,  projected  and  set  on  foot  by  Aratas,  began  about 
this  time  to  make  a  figure  in  Greece.  It  was  a  confede- 
racy of  several  powerful  cities  of  Peloponnesus  and  the 
adjoining  regions,  in  defence  of  liberty,  and  indeed  the 
last  effort  made  by  the  Greeks  to  maintain  their  inde- 
pendency and  freedom.  In  Italy,  the  Romans,  after  the 
departure  of  Pyrrhus,  found  nothing  able  to  oppose  their 
power.  They  had  been  enlarging  their  territories  by  an 
almost  continual  series  of  wars  for  upwards  of  480  years, 
and  now  found  themselves  masters  of  the  whole  country 
from  the  farthest  part  of  Hetruria  to  the  Ionian  Sea,  and 
from  the  Tuscan  Sea  across  the  Apennines  to  the 
Adriatic.  Thus  their  ambition,  crowned  with  success, 
inspired  them  with  still  greater  views.  The  adjoining 
island  of  Sicily,  as  it  lay  convenient  for  them,  so  was  it 
possessed  in  part  by  the  Carthaginians,  a  powerful  peo- 
ple, whose  neighbourhood  they  began  to  look  upon  with 
an  eye  of  jealousy.  We  have  seen  the  foundation  of  this 
republic  by  Dido,  and  that  it  was  considerable  for  wealth 
and  extent  of  territory  as  far  back  as  the  reign  of  Xerxes. 
At  the  time  we  are  speaking  of,  the'ir  dominions  reached 
a  great  way  on  botli  sides  of  the  Mediterranean  Sea. 
For,  besides  the  African  coast,  of  which  they  were  en- 
tirely masters,  they  had  also  many  conquests  in  Spain, 
settled  themselves  in  Corsica  and  Sardinia,  and  possessed 
several  towns  in  Sicily.  This,  added  to  their  immense 
wealth  acquired  by  commerce,  and  the  sovereignty  of 
the  sea,  which  no  nation  could  then  dispute  with  them, 
made  the  Romans  consider  them  as  formidable  rivals, 
who,  if  not  speedily  checked,  might  grow  to  a  power  too 
mighty  even  for  Italy  itself.  Hence  the  rise  of  the  se- 
veral Punic  wars,  which  in  the  end  proved  so  fatal 
to  the  Carthaginians.  That  we  are  now  to  speak  3739 
of,  began  in  the  489th  year  of  the  city  ;  and  is  re- 
markable, not  only  as  being  the  first  foreign  war  in  wdiich 
the  Romans  were  engaged,  but  also  because  herein,  they 
formed  the  design  of  making  themselves  masters  at  sea, 
and,  which  is  almost  beyond  belief,  accomplished  it.  The 
consul  Duillius  ventured  to  fight  the  Carthaginian  fleet, 


$76  MAN5S  fiOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE 

and  obtained  a  complete  victory.  Regulus,  his  successor, 
no  less  distinguished  himself,  and,  landing  in  Africa, 
reduced  Carthage  to  the  greatest  extremity ;  insomuch 
that,  but  for  the  arrival  of  Xantippus,  the  Lacedemonian, 
it  must  have  been  taken.  That  experienced  general,  by 
his  wise  conduct,  gave  a  great  turn  to  the  affairs  of 
Africa.  Regulus  was  vanquished  and  made  prisoner ; 
but  this  reverse  of  fortune  served  only  to  add  more  lustre 
to  his  fame,  Being  sent  into  Italy  to  negotiate  a  peace, 
and  treat  of  an  exchange  of  prisoners,  he  strenuously  de- 
fended in  the  senate  that  law  by  which  it  was  declared 
inconsistent  with  the  glory  of  the  Roman  name  to  redeem 
prisoners  taken  captive  in  a  day  of  battle.  Upon  hia 
return  to  Africa,  we  are  told,  he  suffered  a  cruel  death 
from  the  resentment  of  the  Carthaginians,  who  were  in- 
capable of  admiring  that  nobleness  of  soul  which  made 
him  prefer  the  interest  of  his  country  to  all  private  con- 
siderations. The  war  was  maintained  for  a  long  time 
with  various  success ;  Hamilcar,  the  Carthaginian  ge- 
neral, distinguishing  himself  eminently  in  Sicily  by  his 
great  military  skill;  but  at  last,  the  consul,  Lutatius, 

obtaining  a  complete  victory  over  the  enemy's 
3764    fleet,  near  the  iEgatian  Isles,  Carthage  was 

obliged  to  submit,  and  accept  of  such  terms  as  the 
Romans  were  pleased  to  grant.  Immediately  after  the 
conclusion  of  this  war,  which  had  lasted  four  and  twenty 
years,  the  Carthaginians  found  themselves  involved  in 
another,  which  brought  them  to  the  very  brink  of  de- 
struction. The  mercenary  troops,  of  which  their  armies 
were  composed,  revolting,  for  want  of  their  pay,  were 
joined  by  almost  all  the  cities  of  Africa,  who  hated  thg 
Carthaginian  government.  All  endeavours  to  appease 
them  proved  ineffectual ;  they  invested  Carthage  itself  j 
and  that  great  city  had  been  inevitably  lost,  but  for  the 
valour  and  conduct  of  Hamilcar,  surnamed  Barcas.  He 
found  means  to  vanquish  the  rebels,  and  recover  all  the 
revolted  cities. 

The  Carthaginians,  however,  upon  this  occasion,  lost 
Sardinia,  by  the  treachery  of  the  Romans,  who,  taking 
advantage  of  their  domestic  troubles,  seized  that  impor- 
tant island,  and  even  augmented  the  tribute  they  had  at 
the  end  of  the  war  imposed  upon  that  unhappy  state. 


HISTORY  AND  CHRONOLOGY* 


211 


Carthage  was  obliged  to  take  all  in  good  part,  as  not 
being  in  a  condition  to  oppose  these  encroachments. 
They  now  began  to  think  of  re-establishing  their  domi- 
nion in  Spain,  which  had  been  greatly  shaken  by  the 
late  revolt.  Hamilcar  was  sent  to  command  in  that  pro- 
vince,  where  he  carried  on  the  war  for  nine  j^ears,  with 
great  success.  His  son,  the  famous  Hannibal,  was  in 
the  camp  with  him,  and  not  only  learned  under  that 
renowned  commander  the  whole  art  of  war,  but  also  at 
this  time  contracted  that  implacable  hatred  against  the 
Romans,  which  afterwards  gave  rise  to  so  many  wars. 
Asdrubal  succeeded  Hamilcar  in  the  command  of  the 
army.  He  governed  with  great  prudence  :  and  by  his 
mild  peaceable  administration,  thoroughly  established  the 
Carthaginian  power  in  those  parts.  Meanwhile  the 
Romans  were  engaged  in  a  war  with  Teuta,  Gtueen  of 
the  Illyrians,  who  suffered  her  subjects  to  commit  piracy 
on  the  sea  coast ,  but  she  was  soon  forced  to  submit,  and 
resign  part  of  her  dominions  to  the  conquerors.  Their 
next  war  was  with  the  Gauls,  whom  they  accounted 
their  most  formidable  enemies;  and  therefore,  though 
they  began  to  entertain  a  jealousy  of  the  increase  of  the 
Carthaginian  power  in  Spain,  yet  not  daring  to  break 
with  that  republic  in  the  present  critical  conjuncture, 
they  sent  ambassadors  to  Asdrubal  to  draw  him  by  fair 
words  into  a  treaty,  wherein  he  should  covenant  not  to 
pass  the  Iberus,  which  was  accordingly  agreed  to. 
Hereupon  the  Romans  applied  themselves  seriously  to 
the  war  against  the  Gauls  ;  and  having  vanquished 
them  in  several  battles,  passed  the  Po,  pushed  on  their 
conquests  on  the  other  side  of  that  river,  and  thereby 
became  masters  of  all  Italy,  from  the  Alps  to  the  Ionian 
Sea.  About  this  time  died  Asdrubal  in  Spain ;  and 
Hannibal,  at  the  age  of  25,  succeeded  him  in  the  com- 
mand of  the  army.  He  was  the  darling  of  the  soldiers, 
who  fancied  they  saw  in  him  ail  the  virtues  the}'  had  so 
often  admired  in  his  father  Hamilcar.  Nor  did  his  be- 
haviour disappoint  their  expectations ;  for  he  completed 
the  conquest  of  Spain  with  amazing  rapidity ;  and, 
thinking  himself  strong  enough  now  to  enter  upon  the 
long-projected  war  with  the  Romans,  advanced  with  his 
army,  and  invested  Saguntum.    The  complaints  of  the 

23 


278 


YOUNG  MAN  S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


Roman  ambassadors  were  very  little  regarded  at  Car- 
thage. The  loss  of  Sicily,  the  treacherous  behaviour  of 
the  Romans  in  seizing  Sardinia,  and  augmenting  the 
tribute  exacted  at  the  end  of  the  war,  and  their  unjust 
attempts  to  abridge  their  power  and  bound  their  conquests 
in  Spain,  had  so  irritated  the  minds. of  the  Carthaginians, 

that  all  the  endeavours  of  the  faction  which  op- 
3785    posed  Hannibal  were  fruitless.    Hereupon  war 

was  proclaimed  against  Carthage,  by  order  of 
the  Roman  Senate,  in  the  335th  year  of  the  city.  Mean- 
time Hannibal  was  taking  all  the  measures  necessary  to 
secure  the  success  of  his  designs.  The  Italic  Gauls 
were  gained  over  by  ambassadors  secretly  despatched  for 
that  purpose  ;  the  nations  through  which  he  was  to  pass 
were  for  the  most  part  prevailed  on  by  presents  not  to 
oppose  his  march ;  and  the  peace  of  Africa  and  Spain 
were  secured  by  strong  detachments  of  troops,  left  in 
those  parts,  under  the  command  of  proper  governors. 
When  all  things  were  now  ready  for  the  expedition,  he 
crossed  the  Iberus,  traversed  the  Pyrenees,  Transalpine 
Gaul,  and  the  Alps,  and  came  pouring  down  with  all 
his  forces  upon  Italy,  while  the  Romans  hardly  yet 
imagined  him  set  out  from  Spain.  The  Italic  Gauls 
readily  joined  him,  and  thereby  very  seasonably  rein- 
forced his  army,  which  had  suffered  extremely  in  its  pas- 
sage over  the  Alps.  Four  battles,  successively  lost, 
made  it  probable  that  Rome  must  soon  fall  into  the  hands 
of  this  irresistible  conqueror.  Sicily  too  followed  the 
fortune  of  the  Carthaginians.  Hieronymus,  King  of 
Syracuse,  declared  war  against  the  Romans;  almost  all 
Italy  abandoned  them ;  and  the  republic  seemed  deprived 
of  its  last  resource  by  the  death  of  the  two  Scipios  in 
Spain.  In  this  extremity,  Rome  owed  her  safety  to  the 
valour  and  conduct  of  three  great  men.  The  firmness 
of  Fabius,  who,  despising  popular  rumours,  pursued  stea- 
dily those  slow  measures,  by  which  alone  he  found  Han- 
nibal could  be  vanquished,  served  as  a  rampart  to  his 
country.  Marcellus,  who  raised  the  siege  of  Nola,  and 
took  Syracuse,  revived  by  degrees  the  courage  of  the 
Roman  troops.  But  the  glory  of  conquering  Hannibal, 
and  putting  a  final  end  to  this  dangerous  war,  was  re- 
served for  young  Scipio.    At  the  age  of  twenty-four,  he 


HISTORY  AND  CHRONOLOGY. 


279 


undertook  to  command  in  Spain,  where  his  father  and 
uncle  had  both  lost  their  lives.  Immediately  upon  his 
arrival,  he  invested  new  Carthage,  and  took  it.  His 
affability  and  humanity  drew  almost  all  the  nations  of 
Spain  into  the  alliance  of  the  Romans.  The  Cartha- 
ginians were  obliged  to  abandon  that  rich  and  fruitful 
country  ;  and  Scipio,  not  yet  satisfied  with  so  glorious  a 
triumph,  pursued  them  even  into  Africa.  Every  thing 
gave  way  to  his  superior  valour  and  abilities.  The  allies 
of  the  Carthaginians  forsook  them,  their  armies  were  de- 
feated, and  that  haughty  republic  was  now  made  to 
tremble  in  its  turn.  Even  the  victorious  Hannibal,  who 
had  maintained  his  ground  in  Italy  for  sixteen  years,  in 
spite  of  all  the  efforts  of  the  Romans,  was  found  unable 
to  stop  the  progress  of  this  young  conqueror.  Scipio 
defeated  him  in  a  pitched  battle,  and  forced  the  Cartha- 
ginians to  submit  to  the  terms  of  peace  he  had 
prescribed  to  them.  In  this  manner  ended  the  3802 
second  Punic  war,  in  the  552d  year  of  the  city, 
just  17  years  after  its  commencement.  Scipio  was  ho- 
noured with  the  surname  of  Africanus  ;  and  Rome,  hav- 
ing thus  subjected  the  Gauls  and  Africans,  saw  no  rival 
from  whose  power  she  had  reason  to  apprehend  any  real 
danger. 

If  we  now  look  back  a  little  into  the  affairs  of  Asia, 
which  during  the  times  we  have  been  speaking  of,  were 
entirely  disjointed  from  those  of  Europe,  we  find,  that 
about  the  middle  of  the  first  Punic  war,  while  Antiochus 
Theos,  King  of  Syria,  the  son  of  Antiochus  Soter,  was 
engaged  in  a  war  with  Ptolemy,  King  of  Egypt,  Theo- 
dutus,  governor  of  Bactria,  revolted,  and  declared  himself 
King  of  that  province.  It  was  now  a  rich  and  populous 
country,  and  had  in  it  no  less  than  a  thousand  cities,  all 
which  he  got  under  his  obedience ;  and  while  Antiochus 
delayed  to  look  that  way,  by  reason  of  his  wars  with 
Egypt,  made  himself  too  strong  in  them  to  be  afterwards 
reduced.  This  example  was  followed  by  almost  all  the 
other  nations  of  the  east,  particularly  the  Parthians,  who 
headed  by  Arsaces,  expelled  the  Macedonians, 
and  laid  the  foundations  of  an  empire,  which,  in  3754 
time,  extended  itself  over  all  the  Higher  Asia, 
and  grew  to  that  strength  and  power,  that  not  even  the 


2S0        young  man's  book  of  knowledge. 

Romans  themselves,  when  arrived  to  their  highest  pitch 
of  grandeur,  were  able  to  shake  the  throne  of  the  Arsa- 
cidee,  for  so  the  Parthian  Kings  were  called,  from  Arsa- 
ces,  the  founder  of  their  race  and  empire.  These  revolts 
greatly  weakened  the  empire  of  the  Syrian  Kings,  for 
henceforth  they  were  almost  entirely  secluded  from  all 
the  provinces  that  lay  beyond  the  Tigris.  Several  at- 
tempts were  indeed  made  to  recover  them,  but  in  vain, 
which  obliged  them  to  turn  their  thoughts  towards  those 
parts  of  their  dominions  that  bordered  upon  Egypt ;  in- 
somuch that  Judea,  which  lay  between  the  two  king- 
doms, became  a  ground  of  endless  wars  and  contentions, 
and  occasioned  the  shedding  of  torrents  of  blood.  The 
Romans,  after  the  peace  with  Carthage,  began  to  turn 
their  thoughts  towards  Greece.  Philip,  King  of  Mace- 
don,  had  entered  into  an  alliance  with  Hannibal,  when 
in  Italy,  and  this  was  looked  upon  as  a  sufficient  ground 

for  a  war.  The  consul  Flaminius  was  sent 
3808    against  him,  who,  by  his  victories  reduced  the 

power  of  that  prince,  and  restored  the  several 
cities  of  Greece  to  their  liberty.  Though  every  thing 
thus  gave  way  to  the  Roman  power,  they  could  not  yet 
be  easy  while  Hannibal,  whom  they  still  lqpked  upon  as 
their  most  formidable  enemy,  was  alive.  They  dreaded 
the  bravery  and  enterprising  genius  of  that  great  man. 
Their  endeavours  to  destroy  him  brought  upon  them  a 
new  war;  for,  being  reduced  to  fly  his  country,  he  took 
refuge  with  Antiochus,  surnamed  the  Great,  King  of 
Syria;  and,  inspiring  him  with  a  jealousy  of  the  Roman 
power,  persuaded  him  to  oppose  their  growing  greatness. 
In  the  management  of  the  war,  however,  he  rejected  the 
wise  counsels  of  this  experienced  general ;  and  was, 
therefore,  disappointed  in  all  his  designs.    Beaten  by 

land  and  sea,  he  was  compelled  to  submit  to  the 
3815    terms  of  peace  imposed  by  Lucius  Scipio,  the 

brother  of  Scipio  Africanus.  Hannibal  now 
sought  protection  from  Prusias,  King  of  Bithynia,  where 
finding  himself  still  persecuted  by  embassies  from  the 
Romans,  to  avoid  falling  into  their  hands,  he  ended  his 
days  by  a  dose  of  poison.  Upon  the  death  of  Seleucus, 
the  son  of  Antiochus  the  Great,  Antiochus  Epiphanes, 
who  had  been  some  time  a  hostage  at  Rome,  got  posses 


HISTORY  AND  CHRONOLOGY. 


281 


sion  of  the  throne  of  Syria.  He  is  remarkable  for  setting 
on  foot  a  cruel  persecution  against  the  Jews,  which  dri. 
ving  them  to  extremities,  many  of  them  united  in  their 
own  defence,  under  Matthias,  the  father  of  Judas  Mac- 
cabeus, so  renowned  for  the  many  victories  he  obtained 
over  the  numerous  armies  of  the  King  of  Syria.  In  the 
mean  time,  Perseus  had  succeeded  Philip  in  the  king- 
dom of  Macedonia ;  and,  presuming  too  much  on  his 
wealth  and  numerous  armies,  ventured  to  engage  in  a 
war  with  the  Romans.  But  he  was  soon  made  sensible 
of  his  unequal  strength  ;  and,  being  vanquished  in  battle 
by  Paulus  iEmilius,  was  constrained  to  surrender 
himself  into  his  hands.  Thus  the  kingdom  of  3836 
Macedon,  which  had  for  near  two  hundred  years 
given  masters  not  only  to  Greece,  but  to  all  the  kingdoms 
of  the  east,  was  now  reduced  to  the  form  of  a  Roman 
province,  which  leads  us  to  the  tenth  and  last  period  of 
our  history. 

The  Roman  greatness,  indeed,  commenceth  properly 
from  the  total  reduction  of  Italy,  and  the  superiority  they 
gained  over  the  Carthaginians,  in  the  first  Punic  war. 
Nevertheless,  in  regulating  the  succession  of  the  great 
empires,  the  most  natural  order  seems  to  be  that  which 
represents  them  rising  one  after  another,  and  establishing 
each  its  power  and  greatness,  upon  the  ruin  of  that  which 
went  before.  This  is  the  method  we  have  hitherto  fol- 
lowed, and  indeed  the  only  one  that,  according  to  our 
apprehension,  preserves  a  due  order  and  distinctness  in 
ancient  history.  Thus,  upon  the  death  of  Sardanapalus, 
the  Assyrian  monarchy  was  dissolved,  yet  reviving  again 
in  the  Kings  of  Nineveh  and  Babylon,  that  revolution 
was  not  considered  as  the  sera  of  a  new  empire ;  but 
when  the  power  of  the  Assyrians  was  utterly  broken, 
and  the  dominion  of  Asia  wholly  transferred  to  another 
people,  by  Cyrus,  where  we  fixed  the  beginning  of  the 
Persian  empire.  In  like  manner,  though  the  Persians 
were  greatly  weakened  under  Xerxes,  and  his  son,  Art- 
axerxes  Longimanus,  and  forced  to  accept  of  such  terms 
of  peace  as  Greece  was  willing  to  grant  them  ;  insomuch 
that  the  Greeks,  under  Cimon,  may  be  justly  said  to  have 
given  law  to  the  Persian  empire  ;  yet,  as  tfyat  monarchy 
still  subsisted  under  kings  of  its  own,  and  was  not  finally 


282 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


subdued  till  Alexander  passed  with  an  army  into  Asia, 
and  overthrew  Darius  in  the  plains  of  Arbela,  all  histo- 
rians extend  its  duration  to  the  period  we  are  speaking  of. 
But,  after  that  defeat,  the  sovereignty  of  Asia  passing 
from  the  Persians  to  the  Macedonians,  here  begins  the 
third  great  empire,  which  continued  under  Alexander 
and  his  successors.  The  same  reasons  induced  us  to 
lengthen  out  the  times  of  the  Macedonian  greatness,  to 
the  defeat  of  Perseus,  by  Paulus  JEmilius ;  for,  though 
the  Romans  had  long  before  given  laws  to  Greece,  and 
even  to  the  kings  of  Macedon,  yet  that  kingdom  was  not 
utterly  destroyed  till  the  time  of  the  above  overthrow, 
when,  becoming  a  province  of  the  Roman  empire,  all  the 
power  and  dominion  that  had  formerly  belonged  to  it 
was  transferred  to  the  conquerors,  and  Rome  thereby 
advanced  to  the  sovereignty  of  the  world.  Thus,  we 
have  a  regular  succession  of  empires,  establishing  them- 
selves one  upon  the  ruins  of  the  other ;  and  being  now 
arrived  at  the  last  and  greatest,  we  shall  trace  it  in  its 
progress  and  gradual  advancement,  which  will  complete 
the  plan  of  ancient  history,  and  furnish  such  a  view  of 
past  times,  as  may  be  sufficient  for  enabling  the  reader  to 
pursue  the  train  of  ages  in  an  exact  connected  series. 

Tenth  epocha. —  The  Defeat  of  Perseus. 

In  the  4546th  year  of  the  Julian  period,  which  answers 
to  the  586th  year  of  Rome,  and  168th  before  Christ, 
Paulus  iEmilius  having  vanquished  Perseus,  and  redu- 
ced his  kingdom  to  the  form  of  a  Roman  province,  the 
Macedonian  empire  ceased,  and  that  of  Rome 
3836    succeeded  in  its  stead.    The  consul,  iEmilius, 
-  was  honoured  with  a  splendid  triumph  ;  and  the 
Romans,  who  were  now  masters  of  all  Greece,  began  to 
think  themselves  more  nearly  interested  in  the  affairs  of 
Asia.    Antiochus  Epiphanes  dying,  his  son,  An- 
3840    tiochus  Eupator,  a  minor  of  nine  years  old,  suc- 
ceeded, under  the  tuition  of  Lysias.  Demetrius 
Soter,  the  rightful  heir,  was  then  an  hostage  at  Rome, 
but  could  not  obtain  leave  of  the  senate  to  go  and  take 
possession  of  the  kingdom,  it  being  judged  more  for  the 


HISTORY  AND  CHRONOLOGY. 


283 


advantage  of  the  Romans  to  have  a  boy  reign  in  Syria, 
than  a  grown  man,  of  mature  understanding,  as  Deme- 
trius then  was.  Under  Antiochus  Eupator,  the  persecu- 
tion of  the  Jews  still  continuing,  Judas  Maccabeus  set 
himself  to  oppose  it,  and  signalised  his  valour  by  the 
many  victories  he  obtained  over  the  Syrians.  Meantime, 
Demetrius  Soter,  escaping  from  Rome,  is  acknowledged 
by  the  Syrians  for  their  king,  and  young  Antiochus, 
with  his  governor,  Lysias,  slain.  This,  however,  made 
no  alteration  with  regard  to  the  Jews ;  they  were  still 
persecuted  as  before,  and  Demetrius  sending  numerous 
armies,  one  after  another,  against  them,  they  were  all 
severally  defeated  by  Judas ;  but  being  at  length 
overpowered  by  the  multitude  of  his  enemies,  he  3843 
was  slain,  fighting  with  astonishing  braveiy.  His 
brother  Jonathan  succeeded  him  in  the  charge  of  defend- 
ing the  Jews  j  and  no  less  distinguished  himself  by  his 
valour,  and  a  firmness  that  no  misfortunes  were  able  to 
shake.  The  Romans,  pleased  to  see  the  kings  of  Syria 
humbled,  readily  granted  the  Jews  their  protection,  and 
declared  them  their  friends  and  allies.  Alexander  Balas, 
pretending  to  be  the  son  of  Antiochus  Epiphanes,  and 
supported  by  Ptolemy  Philometor,  king  of  Egypt, 
claimed  the  throne  of  Syria ;  and,  having  slain  3855 
Demetrius,  got  possession  of  the  kingdom.  The 
Carthaginians,  who  had  now  recovered  in  some  measure 
the  great  losses  sustained  during  the  second  Punic  war, 
could  not,  by  all  their  submissions,  ward  off  the  jealousy 
of  the  Romans ;  who,  still  dreading  the  power  of  that 
warlike  republic,  declared  war  against  it,  with  a  resolu- 
tion of  destroying  it  utterly,  that  they  might  rid  them- 
selves for  ever  of  so  formidable  a  rival.  In  Syria,  De- 
metrius Nicator,  the  son  of  Demetrius  Soter,  setting  him- 
self to  recover  his  father's  kingdom,  vanquished  Alexan- 
der Balas  in  battle,  and  got  possession  of  the  throne. 
This  same  year  was  rendered  famous  by  the  de-  3858 
struction  of  two  celebrated  cities,  Carthage  and 
Corinth.  The  former  was  taken  by  Scipio  Emilianus, 
after  a  war  of  three  years,  who  thereby  confirmed  the 
name  of  Africanus  in  his  family,  and  revived  the  glory 
of  the  great  Scipio,  his  grandfather.  Corinth  was  re- 
duced to  ashes  by  L.  Mammius,  the  consul,  and  with  it 


284 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


ended  the  famous  Achean  league.  This  confederacy,  in 
defence  of  liberty,  had  some  time  before  risen  to  great 
renown,  bj-  the  valour  and  abilities  of  Philopeemon,  one 
of  the  most  renowned  generals  that  Greece  ever  produced. 
And,  indeed,  after  him,  we  read  of  no  other  of  that  nation 
who  distinguished  himself  by  any  eminent  accomplish- 
ments j  which  made  the  hero  we  are  speaking  of,  to  be 
stiled,  as  Plutarch  tells  us,  The  last  of  the  Greeks.  After 
his  death,  the  Achean  league  no  more  supported  itself 
with  the  same  reputation  as  formerly ;  and  the  Romans 
growing  jealous  of  it,  it  was  this  year,  as  we  have  seen, 
dissolved,  by  the  destruction  of  Corinth.  All  the  famous 
statues,  paintings,  and  other  curious  works  of  art,  where- 
with that  city  had  been  so  richly  adorned,  being  upon 
this  occasion  transported  to  Rome;  these  masters  of  the 
world,  who  had  hitherto  boasted  of  no  other  knowledge 
than  that  of  war,  politics,  and  agriculture,  began  hence- 
forth to  value  themselves  upon  a  polite  taste,  and  the 
relish  of  what  was  excellent  in  the* fine  arts.  Thus, 
learning  became  honourable  at  Rome ;  the  liberal  sciences 
were  encouraged ;  and  such  advances  were  made  in  all 
the  various  branches  of  knowledge,  that  we  shall  see  the 
Augustan  age  no  less  distinguished  by  the  productions 
of  the  men  of  genius,  than  by  the  exploits  and  bravery  of 
the  many  heroes  wherewith  it  abounded.  Syria,  in  the 
mean  time,  was  the  scene  of  new  revolutions.  Antiochus 
Theos,  the  son  of  Alexander  Balas,  under  the  tuition  of. 
DiodoLus  Tryphon,  dethroned  Demetrius  Nicator,  who, 
by  his  ill  conduct  in  the  government,  had  incurred  the 

hatred  of  his  subjects.  He  recovered  his  autho- 
3861    rity,  however,  soon  after,  and  declared  Judea  a 

free  and  independent  state,  in  consideration  of  the 
services  he  had  received  from  Simon,  the  brother  and 
successor  of  Jonathan.  By  this  grant,  Simon  was  con- 
stituted high-priest  and  sovereign  prince  of  the  Jews;  the 
land  released  from  all  taxes,  tolls,  and  tributes  ;  and 
every  thing  that  bore  the  stamp  of  a  foreign  yoke  being 
abolished,  Judea  henceforth  became  a  distinct  kingdom, 
under  princes  of  its  own.  About  this  time,  the  empire  of 
the  Parthians  began  to  grow  formidable,  by  the  victories 
of  Mithridates  ;  who,  having  subdued  India  and  Bactria, 
was  advancing  with  an  army  towards  the  Euphrates,  to 


HISTORY  AND  CHR0NOLOGV, 


295 


push  his  conquests  on  that  side.  Whereupon,  the  inha* 
bitants  of  those  parts,  calling  in  Demetrius  Nicator  to 
their  assistance,  he  conceived  the  design  of  again  redu- 
cing the  Parthians,  whom  the  Sj^rians  still  regarded  as 
rebels  He  obtained  many  victories  over  Mithridates; 
but  preparing  to  return  into  Syria,  to  chastise  Tryphon, 
who,  after  murdering  Antiochus  Theos,  had  himself 
Usurped  the  crown,  he  unfortunately  fell  into  an  ambus- 
cade, and  was  made  prisoner  by  the  Parthians.  Tr}^ 
phon,  who  thought  himself  secure  by  this  disaster  of  his 
adversary,  was  suddenly  abandoned  by  his  subjects,  to 
whom  he  had  rendered  himself  insupportable  hy  his 
pride.  As  Demetrius  was  still  a  prisoner  in  Parthia,  and 
his  children,  by  Cleopatra,  were  under  age,  it  was  ne- 
cessary to  look  out  for  a  protector  ;  and  this  office  natu* 
rally  fell  to  the  share  of  Antiochus  Sidetes,  the  brother 
of  Demetrius.  But  Cleopatra  stopt  not  here;  for  under* 
standing  that  Nicator  had  married  Roduguna,  the  daugh* 
ter  of  Phraates,  who  had  succeeded  Mithridates  in  the 
throne  of  Parthia,  she,  out  of  revenge,  made  Antiochus 
Sidetes,  her  husband."  When  he  had  settled  himself  in 
the  kingdom,  and  put  an  end  to  the  usurpation  of 
Tryphon,  he  entered  upon  a  war  with' the  Par-  3873 
thians,  under  pretence  of  delivering  his  captive 
brother.  At  first  he  had  full  success,  overthrew  Phraates 
in  three  battles,  and  recovered  Babylon,  Media,  and  the 
other  eastern  provinces,  formerly  belonging  to  the  Syrian 
kings,  Parthia  only  excepted,  where  Phraates  was  redu- 
ced within  the  narrow  limits  of  the  first  Parthian  king* 
dom.  The  Parthian  monarch,  not  discouraged  by  these 
losses,  watched  the  opportunity  of  the  Syrian's  army 
going  into  winter-quarters,  where,  being  obliged  to  dis- 
perse all  over  the  country,  by  reason  of  their  great  num- 
bers, he  fell  upon  them  unexpectedly ;  and  advancing 
against  Antiochus,  who  was  hastening  with  the  forces 
about  him  to  help  the  quarters  that  lay  next  him,  he 
overpowered  him  with  numbers,  slew  him  and  all  his 
followers ;  and,  pushing  his  advantage,  made  so  dreadful 
a  slaughter,  that  there  scarce  returned  a  man  into  Syria, 
of  all  this  numerous  army,  to  carry  thither  the  mournful 
news  of  so  terrible  an  overthrow.  In  the  interim,  Demetrius 
was  returned  into  Syria,  and  on  his  brother's  death  there; 


286        young  Man's  book  of  i£NoWL£i)G£* 

again  recovered  the  kingdom.  For  Phraates,  after  being 
thrice  vanquished  by  Antiochus,  had  released  him  from 
his  captivity,  and  sent  him  back  into  Syria;  hoping 
that,  by  raising  troubles  there  for  the  recovery  of  his 
crown,  he  might  force  Antiochus  to  return  for  the  sup- 
pressing them ;  but,  on  the  obtaining  of  this  victory,  he 
sent  a  party  of  horse  to  bring  him  back  again.  Deme^ 
trius,  being  aware  hereof,  made  such  haste,  that  he  was 
gotten  over  the  Euphrates  into  Syria,  before  these  forces 
could  reach  the  borders  of  that  country;  and  by  this 
means  again  recovered  his  kingdom.    But  he  was  soon 

dispossessed  by  Alexander  Zebina*  the  son  of 
3880    Balas,  who  was  in  his  turn  vanquished  and  exe 

pelled  by  Antiochus  Gryphus.  The  succession 
of  the  kings  of  Syria  being  very  perplexed  by  reason  of 
the  intestine  divisions  of  that  kingdom^  and  the  many 
different  pretenders  to  the  crown,  has  obliged  us  to  be 
somewhat  particular  in  their  history,  to  prevent  confusion* 
Let  us  now  turn  our  eyes  towards  the  Romans,  whom 
we  find  engaged  in  a  war  with  the  Numantines,  and  so 
often  defeated,  that  they  were  obliged  to  send  Scipio 
Emilianus,  as  their  last  resource  and  hope,  before  they 

could  subdue  that  warlike  people.  They  were 
3871    also  about  the  same  time  in  no  small  danger  of 

an  insurrection  of  their  own  slaves  in  Sicily,  un- 
der Eunus,  insomuch  that  they  were  obliged  to  employ 
the  whole  forces  of  the  republic  against  them.  Attalus, 
king  of  Pergamus,  dying,  left  the  Romans  heirs  to  his 
immense  wealth ;  who,  not  satisfied  with  the  dominion 
of  Italy,  Greece,  and  Africa,  were  now  beginning  to  ex* 
tend  their  conquests  beyond  the  Alps,  where  Sextus, 
having  subdued  the  Saluvians,  established  the  first  Ro- 
man colony  at  Aix*  in  Provence.  Fabius  defeated  the 
Allobrogians  ;  and  Narbonese  Gaul  was  reduced  into 
the  form  of  a  province*  But,  though  the  republic  was 
thus  enlarging  her  territories  abroad,  she  was  far  from 
enjoying  that  domestic  tranquillity,  which  makes  the 
security  and  strength  of  a  state.  The  avarice,  usurpa- 
tion, and  ambition  of  the  patricians  had  encroached  so 
far  upon  the  properties  and  privileges  of  the  people,  that 
they  stood  in  need  of  new  defenders  to  save  them  from 
absolute  ruin,    The  two  Gracchi,  who  generously  urn 


HISTORY  AftD  CHRONOLOGY. 


2S? 


dertook  that  office,  being  overpowered  by  the  faction  of 
the  nobility,  perished  in  the  glorious  attempt.  After 
them,  few  tribunes  arose  possessed  of  that  noble  spirit  of 
liberty,  which  hitherto  makes  so  eminent  a  part  of  the 
character  of  this  brave  people.    Faction,  bribery,  and 
corruption,  began  to  prevail  universally  among  them ; 
and  we  shall  soon  see  these  conquerors  of  the  world  them- 
selves made  slaves  to  the  worst  of  tyrants.  Ju- 
gurtha,  king  of  Numidia,  infamous  by  the  mur-  3885 
der  of  his  brothers,  who  had  been  left  under  the 
protection  of  the  Romans,  defended  himself  a  long  time* 
more  by  his  largesses  than  by  arms.    Marius  was,  at 
length,  sent  against  him  :  and,  having  put  an  end  to  that 
troublesome  war,  signalized  himself  next  by  the  defeat  of 
the  Teu tones  and  Cimbri,  who  threatened  all  the 
provinces  of  the  Roman  empire,  and  even  Italy  3904 
itself,  with  destruction     No  sooner  were  these  enemies 
quelled,  than  a  new  and  more  formidable  one  arose  in 
Mithridates,  king  of  Pontus,  who,  having  made  himself 
master  of  all  Asia  Minor,  passed  into  Greece,  and  was 
not  without  great  difficulty  driven  thence  by  Sylla. 
Meanwhile,  Italy,  habituated  to  arms,  and  exercised  in 
war,  endangered  the  Roman  empire  by  an  univer- 
sal revolt:  and,  to  add  to  all  those  calamities,  3913 
Rome  saw  herself  at  the  same  time  torn  by  the 
factions  of  Marius  and  Sylla  ;  one  of  whom  had,-  by  his 
victories,  spread  his  fame  to  the  remotest  quarters  of  the 
north  and  south,  and  the  other  signalised  himself  as  the 
conqueror  of  Greece  and  Asia.    Sylla,  styled  the  Fortu- 
nate, was  but  too  much  so  against  his  country,  over 
which  he  assumed  a  tyrannic  sway,  and  laid  the  foun* 
dation  of  all  the  ensuing  troubles,  by  the  unhappy 
precedent  of  his  perpetual  dictatorship.    Every  3925 
one,  in  his  turn,  aimed  at  dominion.    Sertorius,  a 
zealous  partizan  of  Marius,  fixed  himself  in  Spain,  and 
entered  into  a  treaty  with  Mithridates;    It  was  in  vaiti 
to  think  of  opposing  force  to  a  general  of  his  re- 
putation and  experience:  and  Pompey  himself  3931 
could  no  otherwise  master  him,  than  by  introdu- 
cing dissentions  among  his  followers.    Rome  found  a 
yet  more  formidable  enemy  in  Spartacus,  the  Gladiator, 
■who  brought  her  to  the  very  brink  of  ruin,  and  was 


288 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


found  invincible  till  the  great  Pompej  was  sent 
8936    against  him.    Lucullus,  in  the  mean  time,  made 

the  Roman  arms  to  triumph  in  the  East.  Mitl> 
ridates  was  beaten  in  every  encounter,  and,  retiring  be1- 
yond  the  Euphrates,  found  himself  still  pressed  and  pur- 
sued by  his  victorious  enemy.  But  this  general,  invin* 
cible  in  battle,  found  it  impossible  to  retain  the  soldiers  in 
obedience,  and  repress  that  licentiousness,  which,  like  a 
phrensy,  seized  the  whole  Roman  army.  Mithridates* 
not  discouraged  by  his  many  defeats,  was  again  prepa- 
ring to  make  head  against  his  enemies ;  and  Pompey, 
the  last  hope  and  refuge  of  the  Romans,  was  thought 
alone  capable  of  terminating  this  long  and  destructive 
war.  It  was  on  this  occasion  that  his  glory  rose  to  the 
highest ;  he  finally  subdued  this  valiant  and  politic 
prince,  reduced  Armenia,  whither  he  had  fled  for  refuge; 

and,  pursuing  his  advantage,  added  Albania,  Ibe- 
3941    ria,  Syria,  and  Judea,  to  the  Roman  empire* 

While  Pompey  was  thus  employed  in  gathering 
laurels  in  the  East,  Cicero  was  intent  on  crushing  a  dan* 
gerous  conspiracy  at  home.  That  renowned  orator,  who 
had  laid  out  so  much  of  his  time  in  the  study  of  elo- 
quence, found  now  a  glorious  opportunity  of  exerting  it 
in  defence  of  his  country ;  and  by  it,  more  than  by  the 
arms  of  his  colleague,  Antony,  were  the  dark  and  dan- 
gerous machinations  of  Cataline,  defeated.  Could  Rome 
have  been  saved  from  slaveiy,  the  eloquence  of  Cicero, 
and  the  virtue  of  Cato,  those  intrepid  defenders  of  liberty 
and  the  laws,  seemed  to  offer  fair  for  it.  But  their 
efforts  availed  little  to  save  a  state  that  was  rushing 
headlong  into  ruin;  and  where  luxury,  ambition,  and 
avarice,  getting  universal  possession  of  the  minds  of  men, 
rendered  them  insensible  to  all  great  and  generous  de- 
signs, and  wholly  stifled  the  noble  spirit  of  freedom. 
Pompey  reigned  without  a  rival  in  the  senate,  and  his 
great  authority  and  power  made  him  absolute  master  of 
all  its  deliberations.  Csesar,  by  his  victories  in  Gaul, 
was  endeavouring  to  get  himself  a  name  and  interest 
that  might  bring  him  upon  a  level  with  Pompey  and 
Crassus.  These  three,  combining  in  the  design  to  op- 
press their  country,  governed  with  absolute  authority  ; 
and  Cicero,  whose  eloquence  and  zeal  for  liberty  gave 


HISTORY  AND  CHRONOLOGY. 


289 


them  umbrage,  was  banished  that  city  he  had  so  lately 
saved  from  utter  ruin.  In  the  mean  time,  Crassus,  being 
bent  upon  an  expedition  against  the  Parthians,  had  the 
misfortune  to  be  cut  off  with  his  whole  army ;  a  loss  by 
so  much  the  more  fatal  to  the  Roman  state,  as  it  was 
chiefly  by  him  that  the  rival  factions  of  Csesar 
and  Pompey  were  kept  united.  His  death  was  3955 
followed  by  a  bloody  civil  war ;  and  Rome  lost 
her  liberty  for  ever  in  the  plains  of  Pharsalia.  Csesar, 
victorious,  and  now  master  of  the  universe,  traversed  with 
incredible  expedition,  almost  all  the  known  countries  of 
the  world.  Egypt,  Asia,  Mauritania,  Spain,  &c.  beheld 
this  mighty  conqueror  triumphing  over  all  his  opposers. 
Brutus  and  Cassius,  animated  by  a  zeal  for  liberty,  en* 
deavoured  to  rescue  their  country  from  slavery,  by 
assassinating  the  usurper;  and  the  eloquence  of  3961 
Cicero,  seconding  the  glorious  design,  gave  at 
first  some  hopes  that  Rome  might  yet  see  better  days.— 
But  it  was  the  fate  of  that  unhappy  city  to  fall  soon 
after  into  the  hands  of  Antony,  Lepidus,  and  young  Oc- 
tavius,  who  by  their  bloody  proscriptions,  almost  totally 
extirpated  the  Roman  nobility.  Even  Cicero,  whose 
credit  with  the  senate  had  chiefly  contributed  to  the  ad- 
vancement of  Octavius,  was  abandoned  by  that  ungrate- 
ful  monster  to  the  resentment  of  Antony,  his  implacable 
enemy.  In  the  division  of  the  empire,  Italy  and  Rome 
fell  to  the  share  of  Octavius  ;  who,  affecting  to  govern 
with  great  clemency  and  moderation,  endeavoured  to 
throw  the  odium  of  the  late  cruelties  upon  his  colleagues. 
In  fine,  Brutus  and  Cassius,  the  last  refuge  of  the  repub- 
lic, both  falling  in  the  battle  of  Philippi,  Rome,  after 
them,  never  made  so  much  as  an  effort  for  the  recovery 
of  her  liberty,  but  quietly  submitted  to  the  dominion  of 
the  conquerors.  They  did  not,  however,  remain 
long  united.  Antony  and  Caesar,  combining  to  3973 
ruin  Lepidus,  turned  next  their  arms  one  against 
the  other.  The  battle  of  Actium  decided  the  empire  of 
the  world  in  favour  of  Csesar ;  for  Antony,  upon  that 
disaster,  was  abandoned  by  all  his  friends,  and  even  by 
his  beloved  Cleopatra,  for  whose  sake  he  had  brought  all 
these  misfortunes  upon  himself.  Herod,  the  Idumean, 
who  owed  his  all  to  that  general,  was  constrained  to 
24 


290 


YOUNO  MAN?S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


submit  to  the  conqueror,  and  thereby  confirmed  himself 
in  the  possession  of  the  throne  of  Judea.  Thus  did  Oc- 
tavius  triumph  over  all  opposition :  Alexandria  opened 
its  gates  to  him ;  Egypt  became  a  Roman  province  ; 

Cleopatra,  disdaining  to  adorn  the  victor's  tri- 
3977    umph,  ended  her  days  by  poison ;  and  Antony, 

sensible  that  he  could  no  longer  withstand  the 
power  of  his  adversary,  by  a  voluntary  death  left  Caesar 
in  the  unrivalled  possession  of  the  Roman  empire.  This 
fortunate  prince,  under  the  name  of  Augustus,  with  the 
title  of  emperor,  took  possession  of  the  government.  Thus 
was  the  Roman  commonwealth,  727  years  after  the 
foundation  of  that  city  by  Romulus,  converted  into  an 
absolute  monarchy.  Augustus  now  set  himself  to  reform 
the  many  abuses  that  had  crept  into  the  state  during  the 
wars ;  and,  knowing  that  the  republican  spirit  of  the 
Romans,  though  greatly  weakened,  was  not  yet  alto- 
gether broken,  he  endeavoured,  by  the  mildness  and 
justice  of  his  government,  to  reconcile  his  countrymen  to 
that  power  which  it  was  in  vain  for  thern  any  longer  to 
oppose.  With  this  view,  he  introduced  among  them 
learning  and  the  polite  arts,  which,  by  the  encourage- 
ment they  met  with  from  him  and  Macsenas,  began  to 
lift  up  their  heads  and  flourish.  Horace,  Virgil,  Ovid, 
and  Livy,  adorned  the  age  we  are  speaking  of,,  and  do  it 
more  honour  by  their  inimitable  writings,  than  all  the 
victories  of  the  prince  under  whom  they  lived.  Elo- 
quence alone,  of  all  the  branches  of  literature,  lay  uncul- 
tivated. That  expired  with  Cicero  and  the  free  state ; 
nor  need  we  wonder  at  it ;  since  liberty,  which  had 
hitherto  animated  the  orator,  ceasing,  the  art  itself  be- 
came useless,  and  was  regarded  with  an  eye  of  jealousy 
by  the  men  in  power.  Augustus  having,  by  this  wise 
and  politic  management,  secured  the  tranquility  of  Italy 
and  Rome,  began  to  look  abroad  into  the  provinces,  with 
a  view  to  check  the  enemies  of  the  Roman  name,  who, 
taking  advantage  of  the  intestine  divisions  of  the  empire, 
had  committed  many  outrages.  He  subdued  the  Can- 
tabrians  and  Asturians,  bordering  upon  the  Pyrenees : 

Ethiopia  sued  for  peace  ;  the  Parthians,  dreading 
3980    his  power,  sent  back  the  standards  taken  from 

Crassus,  and  all  their  Roman  prisoners;  India 


ttiSTORtf  AND  CHRONOLOGY. 


291 


sought  his  alliance:  Palmonia  submitted  to  his  power; 

and  Germany  trembled  at  the  name  of  this  mighty 
4004  conqueror.  Victorious  every  where,  both  by  land 
and  sea,  he  shut  the  temple  of  Janus,  and  gave 
peace  to  all  the  Roman  empire.  This  happened  in  the 
754th  year  after  the  building  of  Rome,  and  4714th  of  the 
Julian  period,  which  coincides  with  the  first  year  of  the 
Christian  sera,  according  to  the  computation  in  use  in 
these  western  parts. 

We  have  now  completed  our  original  design,  which 
was  to  lay  before  the  reader  a  short  view  of  ancient  his- 
tory, from  the  creation  of  the  world  to  the  birth  of  Christ. 
We  have  thrown  together  all  the  material  transactions 
of  the  different  nations  of  the  world  ;  and,  by  referring 
them  as  near  as  possible  to  the  years  in  which  they  hap* 
pened,  have,  we  hope,  given  a  pretty  distinct  notion  of 
the  coincident  periods  of  history.  By  keeping  this  ge* 
neral  plan  constantly  in  mind,  we  shall  be  enabled  to 
read  either  ancient  or  modern  writers  upon  this  subject 
with  all  the  advantage  to  ourselves  we  can  desire*  For, 
whether  they  make  choice  of  a  longer  or  shorter  portion 
of  time  within  which  to  limit  their  detail  of  transactions, 
or  in  whatever  order  different  authors  occur  to  our  study, 
the  knowledge  we  have  of  the  general  course  of  ages, 
and  to  what  part  of  universal  history  every  particular 
period  belongs,  will  preserve  all  our  acquisitions  uncon- 
fused,  and  enable  us  to  digest  our  whole  treasure  of  read* 
ing  under  those  heads  and  divisions,  to  which  each  part 
properly  refers.  Nor  is  this  an  advantage  to  be  lightl}' 
accounted  of,  inasmuch  as  men,  according  to  their  diffe- 
rent views  and  aims  in  life,  find  it  their  interest  some* 
times  to  apply  themselves  more  particular] y  to  one  part  of 
history,  and  sometimes  to  another  ;  in  which  case  nothing 
is  more  useful,  than  such  a  general  view  of  things  as 
shall  enable  them  to  connect  and  tie  together  those  seve- 
ral parts  of  knowledge  which  interest  or  necessity  has  at 
different  times  added  to  their  stock  of  learning.  This  is 
so  evident,  that  we  need  not  enlarge  upon  it ;  and  there- 
fore, having  now  finished  all  we  intended  on  this  part, 
we  shall  here  conclude  the  head  of  History  and  Chro- 
nology. 


292 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE, 


CHAPTER  X. 
HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND. 

A  Description  of  the  Ancient  State  of  Britain. 

The  ancient  state  of  England  is  but  little  known  before 
the  Romans  were  in  possession  of  it ;  but  it  appears  that 
the  first  inhabitants  were  very  barbarous  and  uncultivated. 
The  Romans  describe  the  Ancient  Britons  as  a  plain, 
simple,  unlettered  people,  divided  into  a  number  of  small 
and  independent  states,  and  each  state  governed  by  a 
chief  magistrate,  or  king.  The  Druids  were  the  only 
learned  men  among  them.  The  inland  inhabitants  are 
represented  as  extremely  numerous,  living  in  huts  or 
cottages,  thatched  with  straw,  and  feeding  large  herds  of 
cattle.  They  subsisted  chiefly  upon  milk,  fruits,  and 
flesh  procured  by  the  chase;  what  clothing  they  had, 
usually  consisted  of  skins  of  animals,  but  a  great  part  of 
their  bodies,  their  legs  and  thighs,  arms  and  shoulders, 
were  naked,  and  painted  of  divers  colours,  and  their  hair 
hung  down  their  backs.  The  dress  of  savage  nations  is 
every  where  almost  the  same. 

Their  forces  consisted  chiefly  of  infantry ;  but  they 
had  a  considerable  quantity  of  cavalry,  which  they  could 
bring  into  the  field  upon  extraordinary  occasions.  They 
likewise  used  chariots  in  battle,  which  they  managed 
with  great  dexterity  ;  being  armed  with  scythes,  fastened 
to  the  end  of  the  axle-trees,  inflicting  terrible  wounds, 
and  spreading  terror  and  devastation  wheresoever  they 
drove  :  the  chieftains  managed  the  reins,  while  their  de- 
pendents fought  from  the  chariot. 

The  religion  of  the  ancient  Rritons  was  one  of  the  most 
considerable  parts  of  their  government ;  and  the  Druids, 
who  were  priests  or  ministers  of  the  most  distinguished 
order,  were  the  guardians  of  it,  and  had  the  management 
both  of  justice  and  religious  rites ;  these  likewise  exer- 
cised an  unlimited  influence  over  the  rude  multitude,  who 
revered  them  as  beings  more  than  mortal.  They  pos- 
sessed the  right  of  making  laws,  and  of  explaining  and 


HISTORY   OF  ENGLAND. 


293 


putting  them  in  execution.  They  were  considered  as 
the  interpreters  of  the  gods  ;  and  the  austerity  of  their 
manners,  the  simplicity  of  their  lives,  with  the  honours 
of  their  birth,  joined  to  those  of  their  functions,  procured 
them  the  highest  veneration  among  the  people.  They 
chiefly  resided  in  groves  of  oak,  where  they  celebrated 
their  solemnities  ;  and  they  were  exempted  from  all  taxes, 
and  military  services,  as  their  persons  were  reverenced 
and  held  sacred. 

The  religious  principles  of  the  Druids  are  thought  to 
have  been  similar  to  the  Magi  of  Persia,  and  the  Chal- 
deans of  Assyria ;  therefore,  to  have  been  derived  from 
the  same  original.  Their  religious  tenets  teemed  with 
the  grossest  superstitions.  They  inculcated  the  Pytha- 
gorean doctrine  of  transmigration  of  souls  into  other  bo- 
dies, as  well  as  many  other  strange  things,  which  are 
now  but  very  imperfectly  known  ;  as  they  never  suffered 
their  learning  to  be  committed  to  writing,  that  the  vulgar 
should  not  become  acquainted  with  it.  t 

On  solemn  occasions,  they  sacrificed  human  victims, 
which  they  burnt,  in  large  wicker  idols  or  images,  made 
of  osiers,  and  filled  with  living  men ;  they  then  set  fire  to 
the  images,  and  burnt  these  miserable  creatures,  as  an 
offering  to  their  deities. 

There  were  two  classes  of  men  among  the  Druids, 
which  were  highly  respected ;  the  one  called  bards,  to 
which  were  intrusted  the  education  of  youth,  and  whose 
business  it  was  likewise  to  compose  verses  in  commemo- 
ration of  their  heroes,  and  other  eminent  persons,  and  to 
furnish  songs  upon  public  occasions,  which  they  sung  to 
the  sound  of  harps ;  the  other  had  the  name  of  prophets, 
who  regulated  all  public  affairs,  directed  and  put  in 
order  all  public  sacrifices  and  religious  ceremonies,  and 
foretold  future  events.  They  were  under  a  principal, 
elected  by  themselves,  called  the  Arch- Druid  ;  in  whom 
was  invested  supreme  authority.  The  Druids  being  the 
national  preceptors,  it  is  very  natural  to  suppose  that  the 
inhabitants  took  a  tincture  from  the  discipline  of  their 
teachers,  as  their  superstition  continued,  and  prevailed 
long  after  the  introduction  of  Christianity. 

Several  circles  of  stones  are  to  be  seen  in  different  parts 
of  the  kingdom,  which  go  by  the  name  of  Druid  Temples 

24* 


294  young  jvtan's  book  of  knowledge. 

of  which  Stone-henge,  in  Wiltshire,  is  the  most  remark- 
able. Abury,  in  the  same  county,  was  also  a  signal  mo- 
nument of  this  kind  ;  and  Rollright,  in  Oxfordshire,  and 
various  other  remains  of  these  temples  are  still  in  exist- 
ence in  various  parts  of  the  kingdom. 


Its  Invasion  by  the  Romans,  fyc 

The  Britains  had  long  remained  in  this  rude  and  in- 
dependent state,  when  Caesar,  having  over-run  Gaul 
(since  called  France)  with  his  victories,  remained  there 
inactive  with  a  powerful  army.  Being  willing  still  far- 
ther to  extend  his  fame,  he  determined  upon  the  conquest 
of  South  Britain:  a  country  that  seemed  to  promise  an 
easy  triumph,  as  he  had  previously  gained  every  requi- 
site intelligence  from  the  masters  of  trading  vessels,  who 
brought  tin  and  a  number  of  other  commodities  from  this 
country  to  Gaul. 

He  landed,  after  a  sharp  conflict,  at  Deal,  eight  miles 
from  Dover;  (54  years  before  Christ)  and  soon  obliged 
the  Britons  to  submit  to  the  Roman  arms.  They  were 
compelled  to  accept  of  Csesar's  terms  of  peace,  and  agreed 
to  deliver  up  hostages,  as  a  token  of  their  submission  to 
the  Roman  republic. 

As  soon  as  the  inhabitants  of  the  whole  country  heard 
of  the  sudden  invasion  and  compulsive  truce,  they  brought 
together  such  a  powerful  force,  that  Csesar  was  repulsed, 
and  obliged  to  retreat  to  his  ships,  and  set  sail  for  Gaul  ; 
but  in  the  following  year  he  returned  with  a  more  formi- 
dable fleet  and  army,  landed  near  the  same  place  as 
before,  and  encamped  on  Barham  Downs.  Several  bat- 
tles were  fought  with  various  successes,  till  at  length 
Csesar  became  victorious,  and  compelled  the  Britons  to 
complete  their  stipulated  treaty  ;  and  hostages  were  given 
for  the  due  performance  of  it. 

In  the  reign  of  Vespasian,  successor  to  Nero,  the  fa- 
mous Julius  Agricola,  being  appointed  governor  of  Bri- 
tain, in  the  space  of  a  few  months  reduced  the  whole 
island  to  subjection ;  and  it  continued  to  be  a  Roman 
province  from  that  era,  A.D.  79,  to  the  year  410,  when 
the  Romans  were  obliged  to  withdraw  all  their  forces  to 


HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND. 


295 


repel  the  Goths,  who  had  begun  to  desolate  the  Roman 
empire.  It  was  once  more  left  to  its  ancient  and  simple 
inhabitants. 

For  some  time  after  the  Romans  left  it,  Britain  was  in 
a  state  of  anarchy.  The  Scots  and  Picts  ravaged  the 
northern  boundaries  with  impunity.  At  length,  advanc- 
ing farther,  Vortigern  was  elected  governor  of  South 
Britain,  but  made  responsible  for  his  conduct  to  the  ma- 
gistrates of  every  county.  He  obtained  the  consent  of 
the  other  states  to  invite  a  body  of  Saxons,  a  warlike 
people  of  Germany,  to  his  assistance.  Hengist  and 
Horsa,  brothers,  were  the  leaders  of  the  Saxons,  who 
landed  on  the  Isle  of  Thanet,  in  Kent,  A.D.  449;  and 
Vortigern  gave  his  daughter  in  marriage  to  Hengist, 
with  the  county  of  Kent  as  a  dowry.  Hengist  and  Horsa 
assisted  Vortigern  in  driving  back  the  Scots  and  Picts  to 
their  own  country  of  North  Britain ;  they  then  sent  for 
reinforcements  from  the  continent,  threw  off  the  mask, 
and  instead  of  remaining  as  allies,  in  a  short  time  be- 
came conquerors  of  one  province  after  another,  till  at 
length  they  became  masters  of  the  whole,  and  established 
the  heptarchy,  or  the  division  of  South  Britain  into  seven 
kingdoms,  which  were  in  the  following  order: 

1.  The  kingdom  of  Kent,  contained  the  county  of 
Kent,  which  was  founded  by  Hengist,  455,  and  ended 
823.  2.  The  kingdom  of  South  Saxons  contained  the 
counties  of  Sussex  and  Surry  :  this  kingdom  was  found- 
ed by  Ella,  491,  and  ended  in  686.  3.  The  kingdom  of 
the  West  Saxons  contained  the  counties  of  Cornwall, 
Devon,  Dorset,  Somerset,  Wilts,  Hants,  and  Berks :  this 
kingdom  was  founded  by  Cerdic,  519,  and  ended  828. 
4.  The  kingdom  of  East  Saxons  contained  the  counties 
of  Essex,  with  part  of  Hertfordshire,  and  Middlesex  :  this 
kingdom  was  founded  by  Erchenwin,  527,  and  ended 
827.  5.  The  kingdom  of  Northumberland  contained 
Yorkshire,  Durham,  Lancashire,  Westmoreland,  Cum- 
berland, and  Northumberland,  and  a  part  of  Scotland  to 
the  Frith  of  Forth  :  this  kingdom  was  founded  by  Ida, 
547,  and  ended  827,  6.  The  kingdom  of  the  East  An- 
gles contained  the  counties  of  Suffolk,  Norfolk,  Cam- 
bridge, and  the  Isle  of  Ely  :  this  kingdom  was  founded 
hy  Uffa,  575,  and  ended  792.    7.  The  kingdom  of  Mer- 


296 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE, 


cia  contained  the  counties  of  Huntingdon,  Rutland,  Lin- 
coln, Northampton,  Leicester,  Derby,  Nottingham,  Ox- 
ford, Chester,  Salop,  Gloucester,  Worcester,  Stafford, 
Warwick,  Buckingham,  Bedford,  and  Hertford:  this 
kingdom  was  founded  by  Creda,  582,  and  ended  827. 

The  sovereigns  of  the  seven  kingdoms,  which  had 
been  more  than  a  cent ary  in  forming,  made  war  upon 
each  other  at  different  times,  and  weakened  each  others 
power  so  much,  that  in  course  of  time  they  brought  on  a 
dissolution  of  the  heptarchy. 

Egbert,  of  the  race  of  Cerdic,  founder  of  the  kingdom 
of  the  West  Saxons,  the  heptarchy  had  been  reduced  to 
five  kingdoms,  of  which  his  own  was  the  most  consider* 
able ;  and  the  remaining  kingdoms  were  either  defeated 
or  surrendered  to  him  without  opposition.  As  this  totally 
put  an  end  to  the  heptarchy,  so  it  laid  the  foundation  of 
the  English  monarchy. 

England,  at  different  periods,  has  been  under  the  sove- 
reignty of  the  Britons,  the  Romans,  the  Saxons,  or  An- 
gles, (from  whom  it  derived  its  names)  the  Danes,  and 
the  Normans. 

Egbert,  the  first  monarch  of  England,  of  the  Saxon 
line,  ordered  the  South  part  of  Britain  to  be  called  Eng- 
land, and  took  the  title  of  the  King  of  England :  he 
reigned  from  828  to  838. 

Ethelwolf,  the  eldest  son  of  Egbert,  succeeded  his  fa- 
ther in  the  year  838,  and  reigned  till  857. 

Ethelbald,  the  eldest  son  of  Ethelwolf,  succeeded  his 
father,  jointly  with  his  brother  Ethelbert,  in  the  year  857, 
and  reigned  till  860. 

Ethelbert,  the  second  son  of  Ethelwolf,  succeeded  his 
brother  Ethelbald,  as  sole  monarch  of  England,  in  the 
year  860,  and  reigned  till  866. 

Ethelred,  the  third  son  of  Ethelwolf,  succeeded  his 
brother  Ethelbert,  in  the  year  866,  and  reigned  till  872. 

Alfred,  the  fourth  son  of  Ethelwolf,  succeeded  his  bro- 
ther Ethelred,  in  the  year  872,  and  died  on  the  28th  of 
October,  900,  in  the  28th  year  of  his  reign,  and  was 
buried  at  Winchester. 

It  was  Alfred  that  framed  an  excellent  code  of  laws  for 
the  security  of  his  subjects ;  which  were  the  groundwork 
of  the  present :  he  divided  the  kingdom  into  shires,  or 


HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND. 


297 


counties,  the  counties  into  hundreds,  and  the  hundreds 
into  tithing s. 

King  Alfred  knew  too  well  the  value  of  time  to  lose 
any  part  of  it  in  trifling  pursuits,  but  to  make  the  best  of 
every  moment :  when  he  was  not  engaged  in  war,  of 
which  he  had  his  share,  for  it  is  said  he  fought  fifty-six 
pitched  battles  with  the  Danes,  he  set  apart  eight  hours 
every  day  for  acts  of  devotion,  eight  hours  to  public 
affairs,  and  eight  hours  to  sleep,  study,  and  necessary  re- 
freshment. As  clocks  and  hour-glasses  were  not  known 
in  England,  he  measured  the  time  by  means  of  wax 
candles,  marked  with  circular  lines  of  divers  colours, 
which  served  as  so  many  hour  lines  ;  and  to  cause  them 
to  burn  steadily  he  invented  horn  lanthorns,  which  were 
made  of  pieces  of  horn  scraped  thin,  and  fixed  in  frames 
of  wood  to  defend  the  candles  from  the  wind.  Thus 
lanthorns  were  the  invention  of  a  king. 

Edward  the  Elder,  the  eldest  son  of  Alfred,  succeeded 
his  father  in  the  year  900,  and  reigned  till  925. 

Athelstan,  the  eldest  son  of  Edward,  succeeded  his 
father  in  the  year  925,  and  reigned  till  941. 

Edmund  I.  second  son  of  Edward  the  elder,  succeeded 
his  brother  Athelstan,  in  the  year  941,  and  reigned  till 
948. 

Edred,  the  next  son  of  Edward  the  elder,  succeeded 
his  brother  Edmund,  in  the  year  948,  and  reigned  till 
955. 

Edwy,  the  eldest  son  of  Edmund,  succeeded  his  uncle 
Edred,  in  the  year  955,  and  reigned  till  959. 

Edgar,  the  second  son  of  Edmund,  succeeded  his  bro- 
ther Edwy,  in  the  year  959,  and  reigned  till  979. 

Edward  the  Martyr,  the  eldest  son  of  Edgar,  succeeded 
his  father  in  the  year  975,  and  reigned  till  979. 

Ethelred  II.  the  second  son  of  Edgar,  succeeded  his 
half-brother,  Edward  the  Martyr,  in  the  year  979,  and 
reigned  till  1016,  nearly  37  years. 

Edmund  II.  surnamed  Ironside,  son  of  Ethelred,  sue* 
ceecled  his  father,  in  the  year  1016,  and  reigned  only  till 
1017,  having  been  murdered  at  Oxford  by  two  of  his 
chamberlains.  He  left  two  sons  and  two  daughters ;  from 
the  descendants  of  one  of  whom,  by  marriage  with  Mal- 
colm III.  king  of  Scotland,  his  present  Majesty  Wil- 


29S 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OP  KNOWLEDGE, 


liam  IV.  is  descended  in  a#  direct  line.  James  VI.  of 
Scotland,  I.  of  England,  whom  Queen  Elizabeth  nomi- 
nated her  successor,  as  being  her  nearest  relation,  was  a 
descendant  of  Malcolm. 

Canute,  son  of  Swejn,  of  the  Danish  line,  succeeded 
Edmund;  though  Sweyn  had  been  proclaimed  king,  in 
the  reign  of  Ethelred  II.  by  the  Danes  residing  in  Eng- 
land, and  the  English  who  were  disloyal  to  Ethelred  ; 
but  as  the  latter  was  not  deposed,  therefore  Sweyn  is  not 
placed  in  the  list  of  the  kings  of  England.  Canute 
reigned  from  the  year  1017  to  1035  :  he  made  an  alliance 
with  Normandy,  and  married  Emma,  Ethelred's  widow. 
He  died  at  Shaftesbury  in  the  19th  year  of  his  reign. 

Harold  I.  son  of  Canute  by  Alfwin,  his  first  wife,  suc- 
ceeded his  father  in  the  year  1035,  and  reigned  till  1039. 

Hardicanute,  son  of  Canute  by  Queen  Emma,  the 
widow  of  Ethelred  II.  succeeded  his  half-brother,  Harold 
I.  in  the  year  1039,  and  reigned  till  1041,  and  died  of  a 
plethory  at  Lambeth. 

Edward  the  Confessor,  youngest  son  of  Ethelred  II. 
married  Editha,  daughter  of  Godwin,  Earl  of  Kent.  He 
was  the  first  king  of  England  that  touched  for  the  dis- 
ease, now  called  the  king's-evil,  which  was  before  prac- 
tised by  the  French  kings.  He  succeeded  Hardicanute 
in  the  year  1041,  and  reigned  till  1065.  Edward  col- 
lected the  laws  made  by  his  predecessors,  viz.  those  of 
the  Danes  and  Saxons,  into  one  code  (begun  by  Alfred,) 
and  called  the  common  law  of  England.  He  was  buried 
in  Westminster  Abbey,  which  he  rebuilt ;  and  he  was 
considered  as  a  saint  by  the  church,  which  caused  his 
bones  to  be  enshrined  in  gold,  and  set  with  jewels^  in  the 
year  1206.  William,  Duke  of  Normandy,  paid  a  visit 
to  Edward  in  England  in  1051 ;  and  it  is  probable  he 
then  promised  to  appoint  him  his  successor,  (Edward 
dying  without  issue)  as  he  detested  Harold,  who  was  the 
son  of  Godwin,  though  he  had  married  his  sister. 

Harold  II.  son  of  Godwin,  Earl  of  Kent,  succeeded 
Edward  the  Confessor,  in  the  year  1065  ;  but  William, 
Duke  of  Normandy,  made  a  claim  to  the  crown  as  his 
right,  it  being  bequeathed  to  him  by  Edward  ;  and  Ha- 
rold had  made  an  oath  to  him,  when  on  a  visit  in  Nor- 
mandy, to  relinquish  his  own  pretensions  in  his  favour, 


HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND. 


299 


William  sent  ambassadors  to  Harold  to  summon  him  to 
resign  his  crown ;  but  Harold  returned  him  for  answer, 
that  he  was  able  to  defend  his  rights  against  any  one 
who  should  dispute  them  with  him.  This  caused  Wil- 
liam to  fit  out  a  strong  fleet  and  reinforce  his  army ;  with 
which  he  crossed  the  channel,  and  landed  at  Pavensey  in 
Sussex,  on  the  29th  of  September,  1066,  and  soon  after, 
viz.  on  the  14th  of  October,  came  to  an  engagement  with 
Harold  at  Hastings,  and  defeated  his  army.  Harold 
was  killed  upon  the  spot ;  and  a  great  many  of  his  sol- 
diers were  slain  in  that  memorable  battle  between  the 
English  and  the  Normans. 


William  the  Conqueror. — -Reigned  from  1066 
to  1087. 

William  was  the  natural  son  of  Robert  VI.  Duke  of 
Normandy.  Harold  being  slain  in  battle,  William 
marched  to  London,  where  he  claimed  the  crown  by  the 
testament  of  King  Edward  the  Confessor.  On  his  way 
he  was  met  by  a  large  body  of  the  men  of  Kent,  each 
with  a  bough  of  a  tree  in  his  hand.  This  army  was 
headed  by  Stigard,  the  Archbishop,  who  made  a  speech 
to  the  Conqueror,  in  which  he  boldly  demanded  the  pre- 
servation of  their  liberties,  and  let  him  know  that  they 
were  resolved  rather  to  die  than  to  part  with  their  laws 
and  liberty. 

William  thought  proper  to  grant  their  demands,  and 
suffered  them  to  retain  their  ancient  customs. 

Upon  his  coronation,  he  was  sworn  to  govern  by  the 
laws  of  the  realm ;  and  though  he  introduced  some  new 
forms,  yet  he  preserved  the  trials  by  juries.  He  insti- 
tuted the  courts  of  chancery  and  exchequer,  but  disarmed 
his  English  subjects,  and  forbid  their  having  any  light  in 
their  houses  after  eight  o'clock  at  night,  when  a  bell  was 
rung,  called  Curfew,  or  cover  fire,  at  the  sound  of  which 
all  were  obliged  to  put  out  their  fires  and  candles.  He 
obliged  the  Scots  to  preserve  the  peace  they  had  broken, 
compelled  the  Welsh  to  pay  him  tribute,  refused  himself 
to  pay  homage  to  the  Pope,  built  the  Tower  of  London, 
and  had  all  public  acts  made  in  the  Norman  tongue. 


300  YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE, 

He  caused  all  England  to  be  surveyed,  and  the  men 
numbered,  in  a  work  called  Doomsday-book,  which  is 
still  in  being. 

To  curb  the  insolence  of  the  French,  who  had  invaded 
Normandy,  and  after  that  to  reduce  his  son  Robert,  who 
appeared  there  in  arms  against  him,  he  carried  over  with 
him  an  English  army,  and  left  his  own  troops  at  home* 
William,  in  a  general  engagement,  had  like  to  have  been 
killed  by  his  son ;  but  Robert,  when  he  found  that  he 
was  engaged  with  his  father,  dutifully  submitted  to  him, 
though  he  was  victorious. 

William  invaded  France,  and  taking  Mantes;  in  Au- 
gust 1087,  he  ordered  it  to  be  reduced  to  ashes;  but  ap- 
proached so  near  the  flames,  that  the  heat  of  the  fire, 
together  with  the  warmth  of  the  season,  threw  him  into  a 
fever,  which  being  increased  by  a  fall  from  his  horse,  he 
died  in  a  village  near  Roan,  in  the  61st  year  of  his  age, 
after  a  reign  of  25  years  in  Normandy,  and  21  in  Eng- 
gland,  and  was  buried  at  Caen. 

In  this  reign,  Richard,  the  King's  second  son,  was 
killed  by  a  stag  in  the  New  Forest.  There  was  a  great 
fire  in  London,  which  consumed  St.  Paul's ;  and  an 
earthquake,  which  happened  on  a  Christmas  Day. 


William  II.— From  1087  to  1100. 

William  the  Second,  son  of  William  the  Conqueror, 
who  was  from  the  colour  of  his  hair  surnamed  Rufus,  or 
Red,  succeeded  ;  and  at  the  same  time  his  brother  Robert 
succeeded  to  the  duchy  of  Normandy.  Robert  resolved 
to  assert  his  right  to  the  crown  of  England,  and  several 
of  the  Norman  nobility  espoused  his  cause ;  but  William 
put  an  end  to  the  rebellion,  by  defeating  a  body  of  troops 
in  Kent,  and  soon  after  obliged  his  brother  to  conclude  a 
peace.  The  two  brothers  then  made  war  on  their  young- 
er brother,  Henry,  whom  they  besieged  in  Mount  St. 
Michael ;  where  William,  one  morning  riding  out  unat- 
tended, fell  in  with  a  party  of  Henry's  soldiers,  and  en- 
deavoured to  force  his  way  through  them,  but  was  dis- 
mounted, and  a  soldier  was  going  to  dispatch  him,  when 
he  cried  out,  u  Hold,  fellow,  I  am  the  King  of  England.' 


HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND. 


301 


On  this  the  man,  dropping  his  sword,  raised  the  monarch 
from  the  ground,  and  received  from  him  the  honour  of 
knighthood.  The  brothers  were  soon  reconciled;  and 
William  turned  his  arms  against  Scotland,  and  defeated 
the  army  of  their  King,  Malcolm.  Soon  after,  Robert 
de  Mowbray,  finding  that  the  king  had  neglected  to  re- 
ward his  services,  joined  with  several  other  noblemen  to 
set  the  crown  on  the  head  of  Stephen,  grandson  to  Wit 
liam  the  Conqueror;  upon  which  the  King  marched  into 
Yorkshire,  reduced  Bamborough  Castle,  took  Mowbray 
prisoner,  and  put  an  end  to  the  rebellion. 

At  length,  as  William  was  hunting  in  the  New  Forest, 
he  was  slain  with  an  arrow  shot  by  Walter  Tyrrell,  hb 
particular  favorite,  who,  aiming  at  a  deer,  struck  the 
King  full  in  the  breast ;  and  he  immediately  expired,  on 
the  2d  of  August,  1100,  aged  44,  after  a  reign  of  13  years, 
and  was  conveyed  to  Winchester  in  a  collier's  cart. 


Henry  I. — From  1100  to  1135. 

This  prince,  the  youngest  son  of  William  the  Con- 
queror, was,  on  account  of  his  great  learning,  surnamed 
Beauclere.  He  was  born  at  Selby,  in  Yorkshire,  in  1070  ; 
and  the  English,  looking  upon  him  as  their  natural 
prince,  raised  him  to  the  throne  in  1100,  though  his  eldest 
brother  Robert  was  living,  but  he  was  engaged  in  the 
Holy  Land.  Henry  had  before  shown  himself  a  politic 
and  brave  prince.  He  was  no  sooner  seated  on  the  throne, 
than  he  began  to  amend  the  laws,  and  to  abolish  some 
abuses  in  the  church.  About  this  time,  Robert  returning 
Jrom  Jerusalem,  Henry  endeavoured  to  secure  himself  on 
the  throne  by  marrying  the  Princess  Matilda,  daughter 
to  Malcolm,  King  of  Scotland. 

Duke  Robert,  however,  being  determined  to  revive  his 
claim,  landed  at  Portsmouth  in  1102;  but  a  treaty  was 
proposed  to  save  the  effusion  of  blood  ;  and  it  was  agreed 
that  Henry  should  retain  his  kingdom,  relinquish  to  Ro- 
bert the  possession  of  Normandy,  and  pay  him  3000 
marks  a  year.  Robert  afterwards,  being  disturbed  by  an 
insurrection,  and  having  mortgaged  all  Normandy,  ex- 
cept the  city  of  Roan,  to  pay  his  debts,  applied  to  his 

25 


302 


YOUNG  MAN?S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


brother  for  assistance;  on  which  Henry  levied  an  army, 
passed  into  Normandy,  seized  several  cities,  and,  on  his 
return  to  England,  was  followed  by  his  brother  as  a  sup- 
pliant to  a  conqueror  for  mercy,  but  Henry  was  deaf  to 
all  his  entreaties  ;  on  which  Robert  returned,  and  obtain- 
ed the  assistance  of  France,  and  some  of  the  neighbour- 
ing princes ;  but  Henry,  going  with  an  army  to  Nor- 
mandy, totally  defeated  the  allies,  took  the  Duke  himself 
prisoner,  seized  upon  his  dominions,  and  confined  him  in 
Card  iff  Castle,  Wales.  Some  time  after,  Henry's  only 
son,  William,  and  the  Countess  of  Perche,  his  natural 
daughter,  in  their  passage  by  sea  from  Harfleur  to  Eng- 
land, were  drowned  ;  which  gave  Henry  deep  affliction. 
His  brother  Robert,  after  a  confinement  of  27  years,  died 
in  prison,  and  his  death  was  soon  followed  by  that  of 
Henry.  He  died  on  the  1st  of  December,  1135,  in  the 
68th  year  of  his  age,  and  was  buried  at  Reading.  The 
Empress  Maud  was  his  only  legitimate  child  then  living, 
though  he  had  twelve  natural  children. 

Henry  was  very  learned,  and  had  so  great  a  regard  for 
the  sciences,  that  he  built  a  palace  at  Oxford,  whither  he 
often  retired.  In  his  reign,  Winchester,  Gloucester,  and 
Worcester  were  burnt ;  the  Thames,  Medway,  and  Trent 
were  almost  dried  up.  In  the  33d  year  of  his  reign, 
London  was  burnt  from  Westcheap  to  Aldgate. 


Stephen. — From  1135  to  1154. 

The  Norman  government,  which  had  subsisted  sixty- 
nine  years  in  England,  was  now  extinct.  The  Empress 
Maud,  or  Matilda,  succeeded  her  father  William  in  his 
duchy  of  Normandy  ;  but  though  her  right  to  the  crown 
of  England  had  been  recognised  in  parliament,  Stephen, 
Earl  of  Bologne,  the  third  son  of  the  Earl  of  Blois,  by 
Adela,  daughter  to  William  the  Conqueror,  got  posses- 
sion of  the  throne,  and  was  crowned  on  the  22d  of  De- 
cember, 1135.  Stephen  revived  the  favourite  laws  of 
Edward  the  Confessor.  In  this  reign,  the  insolence  of 
the  clergy  obliged  Stephen  to  seize  the  castles  belonging 
to  the  Bishops  of  Salisbury,  Lincoln,  and  Ely.  The 
spirit  of  rebellion  upon  this  occasion  prevailed,  and  the 


HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND. 


303 


Empress  Maud  seized  the  opportunity  of  asserting  in 
person,  a  right  to  the  crown.  The  King  besieged  the 
Empress  in  Wallingford,  pursued  her  to  Lincoln,  and 
gave  battle  to  the  Earl  of  Gloucester  before  that  city, 
when  the  King  was  taken  prisoner;  before  which  he  had 
broken  his  battle-axe  and  sword,  and  was  knocked  down 
on  his  knees  with  a  stone.  He  was  then  confined  in  irons 
in  Windsor  Castle. 

Maud  was  now  acknowledged  sovereign,  but  behaved 
with  great  haughtiness.  King  Stephen's  consort  humbly 
entreated  her  to  set  her  husband  at  liberty,  promising 
that  he  should  resign  his  crown,  and  end  his  days  in  a 
monastery ;  but  she  dismissed  her  with  such  contempt, 
that  the  late  queen,  recovering  resolution,  raised  a  large 
body  of  forces  ;  and  Maud  refusing  to  mitigate  the  seve- 
rity of  the  Norman  laws,  a  revolt  ensued,  and  the  king 
was  set  at  liberty.  All  the  adherents  to  Maud  were  at 
length  obliged  to  retire  to  Normandy:  however,  the 
young  Prince  Henry,  her  son,  obtaining  assistance  from 
France,  returned  to  England  ;  but  when  both  princes 
were  preparing  for  battle,  a  truce  was  agreed  on,  and  it 
was  stipulated  that  the  King  should  enjoy  the  crown 
during  life,  and  that  after  his  decease  Henry  should  suc- 
ceed to  the  throne.  Stephen  died  on  the  25th  of  October, 
at  Canterbury,  in  the  50th  year  of  his  age,  and  in  the 
19th  of  his  reign,  and  was  buried  in  the  abbey  of  Fever- 
sham,  in  Kent. 

In  this  reign  f  there  was  a  great  fire  in  London  ;  the 
city  of  York  was  burnt  to  the  ground ;  Rochester  was 
also  burnt  to  the  ground. 


.Henry  11.— From  1154  to  1189. 

Henry  Plantagenet,  the  son  of  the  Empress  Maud,  by 
Geoffrey,  Earl  of  Anjou,  was  crowned  in  1154,  in  the 
23d  year  of  his  age.  In  1159,  Henry  concluded  a  mar- 
riage between  his  eldest  son  and  Margaret,  the  daughter 
of  the  French  King,  though  the  young  prince  was  only 
five  years  of  age,  and  the  princess  but  six  months  old. 
The  Duke  of  Brittany  also  gave  his  daughter  Constance 


304 


YOUNG  MA^S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE, 


in  marriage  to  Geoffrey,  another  of  Henry's  sons,  then  in 
his  cradle. 

Henry  was  disturbed  at  home  by  the  arrogance  of 
Thomas  Becket,  whom  he  had  raised  from  a  mean  de- 
gree to  the  see  of  Canterbury,  and  the  dignity  of  high 
chancellor.  The  dispute  ran  so  high,  that  the  archbishop 
was  obliged  to  fly  the  kingdom.  The  affair,  however, 
being  at  length  determined,  Becket  returned,  and  raised 
such  disturbances,  that  four  knights,  thinking  to  please 
the  King,  murdered  him  in  his  cathedral  of  Canterbury. 
This  prelate  was  afterwards  honored  with  the  title  of  a 
martyr,  and  canonized  by  the  title  of  St.  Thomas  of 
Canterbury. 

Henry  sailed  with  a  numerous  fleet  to  Ireland,  and 
landing  at  Waterford  on  the  18lh  of  October,  1172,  all 
the  Irish  princes  swore  allegiance  to  him  ;  so  that  he  di- 
vided a  great  part  of  the  country  among  the  English 
nobles,  &c.  who  attended  him  in  the  expedition  ;  from 
whom  sprung  the  principal  families  now  in  Ireland.  The 
same  year,  the  pope's  legate  prevailed  on  the  king  to  do 
penance,  by  going  barefoot  three  miles  to  Becket's  shrine  ; 
and  to  be  scourged  by  the  Augustine  monks,  who  gave 
him  fourscore  lashes  on  the  naked  back  !  ! ! 

Henry  met  with  great  vexation  in  his  own  family ; 
Eleanor,  his  queen,  being  jealous  of  Rosamond,  the  Lord 
Clifford's  daughter,  found  means  to  dispatch  her  by  poi- 
son :  and  the  young  princes,  his  sons,  raised  a  great  re- 
bellion, in  conjunction  with  the  King  of  Scotland,  whom 
Henry  took  prisoner,  but  restored  the  young  princes  to 
favour,  and  pardoned  all  the  revolters  ;  obliging  the  King 
of  Scotland  to  pay  him  homage  for  his  kingdom. 

Henry  was  so  mortified  at  the  disobedience  of  his  sons, 
that  through  grief  he  fell  sick  at  Chinon,  in  Touraine, 
and,  perceiving  his  end  draw  near,  gave  orders  for  his 
being  carried  into  the  church,  where  he  expired  before 
the  altar,  on  the  6th  of  July,  1189,  in  the  57th  year  of 
his  age,  and  the  35th  of  his  reign.  He  was  stripped  by 
his  domestics,  and  left  quite  naked  in  the  church ;  but 
was  afterwards  buried  at  Fonteveraud,  in  Anjou. 

In  his  reign,  lions  were  first  kept  in  the  Tower  of  Lon- 
don ;  London  Bridge  was  rebuilt  with  timber ;  there  was 


it  I  STOR  Y  OF  ENGLAND 


305 


an  earthquake,  by  which  the  church  of  Lincoln,  and 
several  others  were  destroyed. 


Richard  I.— From  1189  to  1199. 

Richard,  the  eldest  son  of  Henry  II.  who  was  from  his 
bravery  surnamed  Coeur  de  Lion,  or  Lion- hearted,  was 
32  years  of  age  when  his  father  died.  He  was  crowned 
in  Westminster  Abbey  on  the  3d  of  September,  1189  ;  at 
which  time  the  Jews  of  London  flocking  to  make  presents 
to  him,  the  mob  robbed  and  murdered  all  they  met  with. 
At  York,  500  Jews,  besides  women  and  children,  shut 
themselves  up  in  the  castle,  and  there  died  by  their  own 
hands,  rather  than  submit  to  their  persecutions. 

Richard  had  no  sooner  ascended  the  throne,  than  he 
went  to  the  Holy  War,  in  conjunction  with  Philip,  King 
of  France.  Richard,  being  driven  by  contrary  winds  to 
the  isle  of  Cyprus,  landed  his  troops  there,  and  took 
Isaac,  the  King  of  that  island,  and  his  daughter,  prison- 
ers ;  conquered  the  whole  country,  was  made  King,  and 
afterwards  transferred  his  right  to  that  island  to  Guy 
Lusignan,  titular  king  of  Jerusalem,  in  exchange  for  that 
empty  title. 

In  the  absence  of  Richard,  which  lasted  four  years, 
Prince  John,  his  brother,  usurped  the  sovereign  authority; 
but  the  king  soon  suppressed  his  brother's  party,  levied  a 
numerous  army,  and  invaded  France ;  and  at  the  battle 
of  Blois,  Richard  took  all  the  archive?  of  the  French 
kingdom.  After  which  he  was  preparing  to  return  to 
England,  when  a  gentleman  of  Limosin,  having  dis- 
covered a  treasure  upon  his  estate,  the  King  claimed  it 
as  sovereign  of  Guienne  :  the  gentleman  took  shelter  in 
the  castle  of  Chaluz,  which  the  King  besieged ;  in  recon- 
noitring the  walls,  he  received  a  wound,  of  which  he 
died,  on  the  6th  of  April,  1190,  aged  42,  after  a  reign  of 
nine  years  and  nine  months.  The  castle  being  taken 
before  the  king  died,  he  ordered  all  the  garrison  to  be 
hanged,  but  pardoned  the  man  who  wounded  him. 

He  appointed,  by  his  will,  his  brother  John  to  succeed 
him  in  all  his  dominions. 

35* 


306 


YOUNG  MAN7S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


John.— From  1199  to  1216. 

John,  surnamed  Lackland,  the  brother  of  Richard,  as- 
cended the  throne  in  1 199.  Though  Arthur,  Duke  of 
Brittany,  son  of  Geoffrey,  the  late  king's  brother,  had  the 
hereditary  right ;  yet  John  was  elected  King,  on  con- 
dition that  he  should  restore  and  establish  the  rights  of 
the  people.  He  was  then  32  years  of  age  ;  and  having 
seized  the  Duchy  of  Normandy,  he  left  Arthur  only  the 
possession  of  some  of  the  provinces  enjoyed  by  the  Eng- 
lish in  France. 

John  had  several  contests  with  the  Pope,  who  had  ex- 
communicated him,  and  absolved  the  people  of  England 
from  their  oath  of  allegiance,  and  now  sent  Pandulph, 
his  nuncio,  into  England,  who  offered  him  the  Pope's 
protection,  on  condition  of  his  taking  an  oath  to  obey  the 
Pontiff  in  all  things,  and  resign  the  crown  into  the  hands 
of  the  nuncio.  To  this  John  consented,  repaired  to  Dover 
church,  and  in  the  presence  of  the  people  took  off  his 
crown,  disrobed  himself  of  all  the  ensigns  of  royalty,  and 
laid  them  at  the  feet  of  the  nuncio,  who  was  seated  on  a 
throne :  after  which  he  signed  a  charter,  whereby  he  re- 
signed the  kingdom  of  England,  and  the  lordship  of 
Ireland  to  the  Holy  See,  and  bound  himself  as  a  vassal 
to  pay  700  marks  annually  for  England,  and  300  for 
Ireland,  and  then  did  homage  to  the  Pope  in  the  person 
of  his  nuncio,  who  kept  the  crown  and  sceptre  five  days 
in  his  possession. 

The  English  barons,  fired  with  indignation  at  this 
meanness,  had  recourse  to  arms,  and  demanded  a  re-esta- 
blishment of  the  laws  of  Edward  the  Confessor,  and  a 
renewal  of  the  charter  of  Henry  the  First ;  which  being 
refused  by  the  King,  they  elected  Robert  Fitzwalter  for 
their  general,  entered  London,  and  besieged  him  in  the 
Tower.  The  King  complied,  when  he  could  no  longer 
resist,  and  agreed  to  meet  the  barons  between  Staines  and 
Windsor,  and  there  granted  whatever  they  desired  ;  and 
hence  arose  the  famous  charter  of  liberties,  called  Magna 
Charta,  which  he  was  obliged  to  sign,  and  also  the  char- 
ter of  the  Liberties  of  the  Forest,  which  have  been  since 


HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND. 


307 


esteemed  the  foundation  of  the  English  liberties.  The 
King,  however,  though  he  had  ratified  these  charters 
with  a  solemn  oath,  brought  over  an  army  from  Flanders, 
and  ravaged  the  whole  kingdom:  upon  this  the  barons 
applied  for  assistance  from  the  King  of  France,  promising 
the  crown  to  his  son  Lewis,  if  he  freed  them  from  John's 
tyranny.  Lewis  soon  came  to  their  assistance,  landed 
at  Sandwich,  and  took  Rochester ;  while  John  retired  to 
Winchester,  having  prevailed  on  the  Pope  to  excommu- 
nicate both  the  French  King  and  the  English  barons  ; 
but  being  deserted  by  some  of  his  mercenaries,  the  Dau- 
phin besieged  Dover,  while  the  barons  invested  Windsor. 
At  length  grief  and  fatigue  threw  the  King  into  a  fever. 
He  died  on  the  18th  of  October,  1216,  in  the  51st  year  of 
his  age,  and  the  17th  of  his  reign. 

In  this  reign  London  Bridge,  which  was  before  of 
wood,  was  built  entirely  of  stone. 


Henry  III— From  1216  to  1272. 

Henry  of  Winchester  was  but  12  years  of  age,  when 
the  Earl  of  Pembroke  had  him  crowned  at  Gloucester, 
October  28,  1216  ;  and  the  legate  caused  him  to  do  ho- 
mage to  the  Holy  See.  Many  of  the  barons  who  had 
sworn  allegiance  to  the  Dauphin  joined  with  Henry,  and 
the  Pope  renewed  his  excommunication  against  Lewis : 
after  this  a  truce  was  concluded,  and  prolonged  till  Eas- 
ter ;  soon  after  which  the  French  laid  siege  to  Lincoln 
castle,  but  being  unsuccessful  in  that  and  some  other 
attempts,  Lewis  agreed  to  return  home,  and  to  restore 
the  English  dominions  in  France. 

Henry  began  his  majority  wTith  exacting  large  sums, 
and  annulling  the  two  sacred  charters  granted  by  his 
father.  He  landed  in  Brittany  with  a  numerous  army, 
and  then  spending  his  time  with  diversions,  shamefully 
returned,  after  he  had  spent  all  his  treasure.  He  after- 
wards renewed  the  war,  in  which  he  lost  all  Poictou, 
and  then  concluded  a  truce  with  Lewis  for  five  years,  to 
purchase  which  Henry  consented  to  pay  him  5000/, 
annually. 

The  King  met  with  many  mortifications  from  his  par* 


b05         young  man's  book  of  knowledge. 

liament  and  people,  who  at  length  obliged  him  to  renew 
the  two  charters,  which  was  done  in  Westminster-hall, 
in  the  following  manner,  viz.  the  peers  being  assembled 
in  the  presence  of  the  King,  each  holding  a  lighted  taper, 
the  archbishop  of  Canterbury  denounced  a  terrible  curse 
against  those  who  should  violate  the  laws,  or  alter  the 
constitution  of  the  kingdom  ;  then  the  charter  was  read 
aloud,  and  confirmed  by  the  King,  who  all  this  while 
kept  his  hand  upon  his  breast ;  after  which  every  one 
threw  his  taper  on  the  ground  to  raise  a  great  smoke,  and 
wished  thai  those  who  violated  the  charters  might  smoke 
in  hell.  After  which;  the  parliament  granted  him  a  sub- 
sidy for  suppressing  an  insurrection  in  Guienne.  He 
soon  reduced  that  province,  and  returned  to  England, 
where  he  renewed  his  exactions.  Prince  Richard,  Hen- 
ry's brother,  being  elected  King  of  the  Romans,  took  the 
immense  sum  of  700,000/.  into  Germany  to  support  his 
election  ;  while  the  King  amassed  950,000  marks  for  on 
expedition  to  the  Two  Sicilies,  which  were  offered  him 
by  the  Po:e.  totooh  toe  c; '  *  t:  O0o:o:oo, 

the  Emperor  Conradin's  son.  In  short,  the  people  were 
grievously  oppressed ;  and  the  barons,  finding  that  Henry 
could  not  be  bound  by  the  most  solemn  oaths,  undertook 
to  reform  the  government :  accordingly  commissioners 
were  chosen  by  the  Bang  and  the  barons,  and  articles 
agreed  on,  which  the  King  again  broke.  At  last,  they 
came  to  an  open  war,  when  a  decisive  battle  was  fought 
nee:  Lev.-es,  oe  Soseex.  to  -.vht:n  the  Ktoo's  e :::.;.-  *.vas 
defeated,  and  himself,  Prince  Edward,  and  the  King  of 
the  Romans,  taken  prisoners ;  but  afterwards  the  Earls 
of  Leicester  and  Gloucester  quarrelling,  the  latter  joined 
Prince  Edward,  who  had  escaped  from  his  keepers,  and, 
uniting  their  forces,  marched  against  the  Earl  of  Leices- 
ter, whom  they  defeated  and  slew.  The  King  was  set 
at  liberty,  but  peace  was  not  restored  till  some  time  after, 
when  Prince  Edward  engaged  in  a  crusade,  and  went  to 
the  Holy  Land.  Henry  died  at  London,  November  20, 
1272.  aged  65.  in  the  56th  year  of  his  o  oo  os 
buried  in  Westminster  Abbey. 


HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND. 


Edward  l.~-From  1272  to  1307. 

Edward,  surnamed  Longshanks,  was  aged  33  when 
his  father  died,  and  was  crowned  on  his  return  from  Pa- 
lestine, where,  with  only  10,000  Englishmen,  he  struck 
a  general  panic  into  the  Saracens.  He  narrowly  esca- 
ped being  murdered  there  by  an  assassin,  from  whom  he 
received  a  wound  in  his  arm,  which  was  given  by  a 
poisoned  dagger ;  and  it  is  affirmed  that  he  owed  his  life 
to  the  affection  of  Eleanor  his  wife,  who  was  with  him, 
and  sucked  the  venom  out  of  the  wound.  He  arrived  in 
England,  with  his  faithful  queen,  on  the  25th  of  July, 
1274;  and  they  were  both  crowned  at  Westminster,  on 
the  19th  of  August  following.  He  began  his  reign  with 
a  strict  inquiry  into  the  affairs  of  his  kingdom,  &c.  and 
confirmed  the  great  charter. 

He  then  set  about  rectifying  the  coin,  which  had  been 
so  much  adulterated  by  the  Jews,  and  caused  280  of 
them  to  be  put  to  death. 

Edward,  having  defeated  and  killed  Lewellyn,  a  petty 
King  of  Wales,  who  had  revolted,  afterwards  summoned 
a  parliament  at  Ruthen,  where  it  was  resolved  that 
Wales  should  be  inseparably  united  to  England.  But 
some  of  the  Welsh  nobles  telling  the  King  that  he  would 
never  peaceably  enjoy  their  country  till  they  were  go- 
verned by  a  prince  of  their  own  nation,  he  sent  for  his 
queen,  who  was  then  pregnant,  to  lie  in  at  Caernarvon, 
where  she  was  brought  to  bed  of  a  prince,  whom  the 
states  of  Wales  acknowledged  for  their  sovereign ;  and 
since  that  time  the  eldest  sons  of  the  Kings  of  England, 
have  borne  the  title  of  the  Prince  of  Wales.  Edward 
banished  15,000  Jews  for  usury  and  adulterating  the 
c;>i:i.  Soon  after  this,  Queen  Eleanor  died  at  Grantham, 
in  Lincolnshire ;  to  whose  memory  the  King  erected  a 
cross  at  every  place  where  the  corpse  rested  in  the  way 
to  Westminster. 

Edward  carried  his  arms  into  Scotland,  where  he  took 
the  three  important  places  of  Berwick,  Dunbar,  and 
Ed  inburgh.  John  Baliol,  their  King,  who  was  supported 
by  Edward,  repaired  to  him  in  the  most  humble  manner, 
renewed  the  oath  of  fealty,  and  put  the  whole  kingdom 


§10         Young  man's  book  of  knowledge* 

in  his  power.  While  Edward  was  in  Flanders,  endea* 
vouring  to  recover  some  dominions  he  had  lost  in  France 
by  treachery,  William  Wallace,  the  glory  of  Scotland, 
rose  up  in  the  defence  of  his  country,  and  having  sud- 
denly dispossessed  the  English  of  all  the  strong  places 
they  held)  was  declared  regent  of  the  kingdom ;  on  which 
Edward  hastily  returned  from  France,  advanced  into 
Scotland  at  the  head  of  a  powerful  army,  and  defeated 
Wallace,  who  several  years  after  was  betrayed  into  the 
hands  of  the  English,  and  sent  to  London,  where  Edward 
treated  him  with  unpardonable  severity,  and  made  this 
great  hero  suffer  the  death  of  a  traitor.  Edward  thrice 
conquered  Scotland,  and  at  length  vowed  that  he  would 
destroy  that  kingdom  from  sea  to  sea ;  but  was  seized 
with  a  dysentery,  and  died  in  the  little  town  of  Burgh, 
on  the  7th  of  July,  1307,  in  the  68th  year  of  his  age,  and 
the  35th  of  his  reign.  His  body  was  interred  in  West- 
minster abbey. 

Edward  was  a  head  taller  than  the  generality  of  men  ; 
his  person  was  well  made,  strong,  and  handsome ;  but 
his  legs  being  rather  too  long,  he  was  thence  called 
Longshanks.  His  regard  for  the  laws  was  so  great, 
that  he  publicly  imprisoned  the  Prince  of  Wales,  his  son, 
for  breaking  into  the  park  of  the  bishop  of  Litchfield  and 
Coventry. 


Edward  II.— From  1307  to  1327. 

Edward  of  Caernarvon  was  twenty-three  years  of  age 
when  his  father  died.  He  recalled  Prince  Gaveston, 
whom  his  father  had  banished,  and  by  his  will  enjoined 
him  not  to  associate  with;  and  then  married  Isabella, 
the  daughter  of  the  French  King ;  and  they  were  both 
crowned  at  Westminster/on  the  24th  of  February,  1308* 
His  ridiculous  fondness  for  Gaveston  created  innume- 
rable disputes.  At  length,  the  barons  had  recourse  to 
arms,  and  Gaveston  was  beheaded.  Meanwhile  the  Scots 
gained  three  victories  over  the  English,  and  made  them* 
selves  masters  of  every  place  in  Scotland. 

King  Edward  now  raised  the  two  Spencers,  father 
and  son,  to  the  summit  of  power ;  but  they  were  banished 


HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND. 


311 


by  the  parliament.  The  King  levied  an  armj',  took 
some  castles  from  the  barons,  and  recalled  the  Spencers. 
Edward  afterwards  invaded  Scotland,  but,  wanting  pro- 
visions, returned  without  striking  a  blow ;  on  which 
Bruce,  King  of  Scotland,  pursued  him  to  York,  destroyed 
20,000  of  the  English,  and  then  consented  to  a  peace. 

The  two  Spencers  incurred  the  general  hatred ;  and 
Queen  Isabella  fled  to  France  with  her  son,  whence  the 
nobility  sent  for  her,  and  she,  with  a  numerous  army, 
marching  towards  London,  the  King  fled  into  the  West  5 
but  she  still  pursuing  him,  set  sail  for  Ireland,  but  was 
driven  back  into  Wales,  Hugh  Spencer,  the  father, 
being  taken,  was,  without  a  trial,  hanged  and  quartered, 
and  the  King  himself  was  sent  prisoner  to  the  Queen^ 
and  the  young  Spencer  was  hanged. 

The  Queen  now  forgot,  every  call  of  nature  and  duty^ 
and  was  entirely  governed  by  Mortimer,  whom  she  took 
to  her  bed.  King  Edward  was  deposed,  and  the  son 
proclaimed  King ;  they  having  obliged  the  old  King  to 
resign  in  the  43d  year  of  his  age,  and  the  20th  of  his 
reign ;  after  which  he  was  treated  with  the  greatest  in- 
dignities, arid  ai  last  cruelly  murdered  ;  for  some  assas- 
sins covered  him  with  a  feather-bed,  and  held  him  down, 
while  others  thrust  a  horn  pipe  up  his  body,  through 
which  they  conveyed  a  red-hot  iron,  and  burnt  his  bowels 
to  prevent  any  external  appearance  of  violence. 

Edward  III ^-From  1327  to  1377, 

Edward  of  Windsor,  was  crowned  at  the  age  of  14, 
on  the  26th  of  January,  1327.  Though  the  parliament 
appointed  a  regency,  the  Queen  and  Roger  Mortimer  had 
the  sole  rule,  By  their  influence,  the  young  King  re- 
nounced all  his  pretensions  to  Scotland,  and  gave  his 
sister  in  marriage  to  David  Bruce,  King  of  the  Scots  J 
but  afterwards  becoming  sensible  of  his  error,  he  caused 
the  Queen,  his  mother,  to  be  confined  for  life,  and  Morti- 
mer, Earl  of  March,  to  be  hanged  at  Tyburn.  He  then 
broke  the  truce  with  Scotland,  and  invaded  that  king* 
dom  ;  won  four  battles  in  a  short  time,  and  obliged  King 
David  to  fly  with  his  Queen  into  France,  when  he  set 


312        young  man's  book  of  knowledge. 


up  Edward  Baliol  in  his  room.  Edward  now  laid  claim 
to  France;  for  Charles,  his  mother's  brother,  dying, 
Philip  of  Valois  had  possessed  himself  of  the  kingdom, 
alleging  the  Salique  law  ;  but  Edward  asserted  that  the 
Salique  law,  in  excluding  females  from  the  succession, 
did  not  exclude  their  male  issue,  on  which  he  grounded 
his  title.  His  first  campaign  passed  without  bloodshed ; 
but  he  took  the  title  of  the  King  of  France,  and  quartered 
his  arms  with  the  flower  de  luce,  adding  the  motto,  Dieu 
et  mon  droit,  or,  God  and  my  right. 

In  his  second  attempt,  he  defeated  the  French  fleet, 
destroyed  or  took  370  of  their  ships,  and  30,000  men : 
then  besieged  Tournay  ;  but  being  called  home  to  oppose 
the  Scots,  concluded  a  truce  for  one  year  with  King 
Philip.  The  next  campaign,  he  wasted  all  trie  country 
up  to  the  walls  of  Paris,  and  obtained  the  glorious  battle 
of  Cressy,  which  was  won  by  the  Prince  of  Wales,  who 
was  then  only  sixteen.  The  French  were  defeated  with 
incredible  slaughter.  The  King  of  Bohemia  also  died  in 
the  field  ;  when  his  standard,  on  which  were,  in  gold, 
three  ostrich's  feathers,  with  these  words,  Ich  dien,  that 
is,  /  serve,  was  brought  to  the  Prince  of  Wales,  who,  in 
memory  of  that  victory,  bore  the  ostrich  feathers  in  his 
coronet,  with  the  same  motto.  In  this  battle  the  French 
lost  eleven  princes,  and  30,000  common  soldiers,  a  greater 
number  than  the  whole  army  of  the  conquerors,  whose 
loss  was  very  inconsiderable.  When  the  victory  was 
over,  the  King  tenderly  embracing  the  Prince,  "  My  gal- 
lant son,"  he  said,  "you  have  nobly  acquitted  yourself, 
and  well  are  you  worthy  of  the  kingdom."  Six  weeks 
after  this,  Edward's  Gtueen  defeated  the  Scots,  and  took 
King  David  prisoner.  These  memorable  battles  were 
fought  in  1346.  Edward  then  laid  siege  to  Calais, 
which  he  was  obliged  to  reduce  by  famine,  and  then 
returned  to  England.  He  then  sent  over  his  son,  the 
Black  Prince,  who,  after  taking  several  towns,  totally 
routed  the  French  army,  commanded  by  King  John,  who 
had  succeeded  Philip ;  and,  in  this  glorious  battle,  which 
was  fought  near  Poictiers,  took  the  King,  many  nobles, 
and  a  multitude  of  private  men  prisoners,  though  the 
French  army  was  six  times  as  numerous  as  the  English. 

There  were  at  this  time  two  Kings  prisoners  in  Eng- 


HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND. 


313 


and  ;  the  French  King,  who  was  lodged  at  the  Savoy, 
which  was  then  a  palace;  and  the  King  of  Scotland, 
who  was  confined  at  Odiham,  in  Hampshire.  They 
were  both  treated  with  great  respect.  The  French  King 
paid  for  his  ransom  500,000Z.  and  a  considerable  extent 
of  country ;  and  the  King  of  Scots  was  ransomed  for 
100,000  marks.  The  French  King  afterwards  returned 
to  England,  and  kept  his  court  at  the  palace  of  the  Savo^ 
where  he  died  in  1363. 

A  tedious  war  was  afterwards  carried  on  against  the 
Black  Prince  by  Charles,  the  French  King,  in  which 
several  battles  were  fought  to  the  disadvantage  of  the 
English,  who  lost  all  they  had  so  bravely  conquered  in 
France,  except  Calais,  to  which  the  death  of  the  Black 
Prince  greatly  contributed. 

At  length  Edward,  after  having  settled  the  succession, 
was  taken  ill,  and  died  at  Richmond,  in  Surrey,  on  the 
21st  of  June,  1377,  in  the  65th  year  of  his  age,  and  the 
51st  of  his  reign,  and  was  buried  in  Westminster  abbey. 
Edward  the  Black  Prince  has  a  monument  in  the  cathe- 
dral of  Canterbury. 

This  Prince  instituted  the  order  of  the  garter,  which  is 
said  to  have  had  its  rise  from  the  Countess  of  Salisbury's 
dropping  her  garter  at  a  ball,  which  the  King  taking  up, 
and  observing  her  in  a  confusion,  presented  it  to  her,  say- 
ing, u  Honi  soit  qui  mal  y  pense,,-~lSitt7  to  him  who  evil 
thinks ;  when,  observing  several  of  the  nobles  smile,  he 
added,  Many  a  man  has  laughed  at  the  gartery  who  will 
think  it  a  very  great  honour  to  wear  such  a  one* 


Richard  II.— From  1307  to  1398. 

Richard  of  Bourdeaux,  the  son  of  Edward  the  Black 
Prince,  was  but  eleven  jrears  of  age  When  he  Was  crowned 
at  Westminster,  on  the  16th  of  July,  1377.  He  was  put 
under  the  tuition  of  his  uncles,  John,  Duke  of  Lancaster, 
and  Edmund,  Earl  of  Cambridge.  In  this  reign,  a  poll- 
tax  was  passed,  at  12d.  per  head,  on  all  above  the  age  of 
sixteen.  This  being  levied  with  severity*  caused  an  in- 
surrection in  Kent  and  Essex  5  at  the  head  of  which  were 
Wat  Tyler  and  Jack  Straw.    Tyler  refusing  to  pay  for 


314 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


his  daughter,  alleging  she  was  under  the  age  specified  in 
the  act,  the  collector  used  her  with  great  indecency  ;  on 
which  Tyler  beat  out  his  brains  with  a  hammer ;  theft 
making  known  the  occasion  of  the  murder,  he  was  soon 
joined  by  above  100,000  men,  who  advanced  to  London, 
cut  off  the  heads  of  all  the  lords,  gentlemen,  and  lawyers, 
they  met  with,  and  plundered  and  destroyed  many 
houses,  &c.  The  King  himself  was  obliged  to  come  to 
a  conference  with  Wat  Tyler  in  Smithfield,  when  Wil- 
liam Walworth,  mayor  of  London,  gave  Tyler  such  a 
blow  on  the  head  with  his  sword,  that  he  fell  dead  at  his 
feet;  soon  after  which  they  dispersed. 

The  King  knighted  Mr.  Walworth,  and  ordained  that 
the  mayor  of  London  should  ever  after  bear  the  title  of 
Lord,  and  that  the  dagger  should  be  added  to  the  city 
arms,  which  was  before  a  plain  cross. 

The  rebellion  also  extended  into  Norfolk  and  Suffolk, 
but  it  was  soon  suppressed  ;  and  the  King  sent  an  army 
into  Kent  and  Sussex,  to  punish  the  ringleaders,  and  Jack 
Straw,  with  about  fifteen  hundred  of  his  followers,  were 
hanged. 

The  King's  fondness  for  his  favourites,  Robert  de  Vere, 
Earl  of  Oxford,  whom  he  created  Duke  of  Ireland,  and 
Michael  de  la  Pool,  who  was  made  Earl  of  Suffolk, 
raised  such  discontent,  that  the  barons  had  twice  recourse 
to  arms,  and  at  length  obliged  the  King  to  take  refuge  in 
the  Tower,  and  afterwards  forced  him  to  resign  the 
crown.  Henry,  Duke  of  Hereford,  the  son  of  John  of 
Gaunt,  was  then  declared  King.  Richard  was  removed 
to  Pontefract  castle,  where  Sir  Pierce  de  Exton,  with 
eight  ruffians,  in  hopes  of  pleasing  Henry,  rushed  in  upon 
him  ;  when  Richard,  resolving  to  die  like  a  man,  wrested 
a  pole-axe  from  one  of  them,  and  laid  four  of  them  dead 
at  his  feet ;  but  Exton,  mounting  on  a  chair  behind  him, 
gave  him  so  violent  a  blow  on  the  head  with  a  club,  that 
he  fell  down  senseless,  and  thus  died  in  the  33d  year  of 
his  age,  after  a  reign  of  22  years. 

King  Henry  IV.  ordered  his  body  to  be  removed  to 
Westminster  abbey,  and  caused  a  monument  to  be  erected 
to  his  memory,  and  to  that  of  his  Queen,  in  Edward  the 
Confessors  chapel. 

In  the  fourth  year  of  his  reign,  a  mortality  almost  de- 


lilSTORV  OF  ENGLAND. 


315 


populated  the  north  of  England ;  in  his  sixth  year,  se* 
veral  churches  were  thrown  down  by  an  earthquake  ;  in 
his  twelfth  year,  there  was  a  great  plague  and  famine  ; 
and  in  this  reign  guns  first  came  into  use.  It  is  also 
worthy  of  remark,  that  peaked,  higlvtoed  shoes,  fastened 
to  the  knees  with  silver  chains,  were  in  fashion  about  the 
middle  of  this  King's  reign  ;  and  soon  after  side-saddles 
Were  used,  and  long  gowns  worn,  which  were  introduced 
by  the  Queen,  a  Bohemian  princess;  for,  before  that 
time,  the  English  women  rode  astride  like  the  men. 


Henry  IV.— From  1399  to  1419. 

Henry  IV.  surnamed  Bolingbroke,  was  raised  to  the 
throne  as  a  reward  for  his  past  services,  though  Edmund 
Mortimer  Was  presumptive  heir  to  the  crown,  as  being 
descended  from  the  daughter  of  Lionel,  Duke  of  Cla* 
rence,  the  third  son  of  King  Edward  III.  ;  while  Henry, 
Duke  of  Lancaster,  was  the  son  of  John  of  Gaunt,  the 
younger  brother  of  Lionel,  and  the  fourth  son  of  Edward 
III.— -Henry,  Duke  of  Lancaster,  was  proclaimed  King 
on  the  30th  of  September,  1399,  the  very  day  on  which 
Richard  was  deposed. 

The  Dukes  of  Albemarle, "  Surrey,  and  Exeter,  the 
Earls  of  Salisbury  and  Gloucester,  the  Bishop  of  Carlisle, 
and  Sir  Thomas  Blount,  being  Richard's  friends,  formed 
a  conspiracy  in  the  year  1400,  in  order  to  assassinate 
Henry,  and  restore  Richard  to  the  throne ;  but  being 
discovered,  and  their  whole  scheme  frustrated,  they  as* 
sembled  an  army  of  40,000  men,  and  set  up  Maudlin,  a 
priest,  whose  person  resembled  Richard's,  to  pretend  that 
he  was  Richard  himself :  in  this  they  also  failed  ;  most 
of  the  leaders  were  taken  and  beheaded,  and  Maudlin 
was  hanged  at  London ;  and  this  conspiracy  hastened 
the  death  of  the  late  King,  who  was  soon  after  basely 
murdered  at  Pontefract. 

Henry  used  great  severity  towards  the  Lollards,  or  the 
followers  of  WicklifTe ;  and  had  William  Sawtree,  a 
clergyman,  burnt  in  London  as  a  heretic. 

In  1402,  Henry  caused  Roger  Clarendon,  the  natural 
eon  of  Edward  the  Black  Prince,  and  several  others,  to 


316 


young  Man's  book  op  knowledge* 


be  put  to  death,  for  maintaining  that  Richard  was  alive. 
The  same  year  he  married  Johanna  of  Navarre,  widow 
of  the  Duke  of  Britanny* 

About  this  time  the  Scots  invaded  England,  under  the 
Earl  of  Douglas  ;  but  were  defeated  at  Hallidon-hill  by 
the  Earl  of  Northumberland,  and  his  son,  Henry  Hot- 
spur, with  the  loss  of  about  10,000  men  ;  and  in  this 
victory  several  Earls,  and  many  other  officers,  were  made 
prisoners ;  but  the  King  ordering  Northumberland  to  de* 
liver  up  the  prisoners  into  his  hands,  the  Earl  was  so  ex- 
asperated, that  he,  with  Henry  Percy,  surnamed  Hotspur, 
his  son,  and  other  lords,  agreed  to  crown  Edmund  Mor- 
timer, Earl  of  March,  whom  Glendour  kept  prisoner  in 
Wales.  The  rebel  army  encamped  near  Shrewsbury, 
headed  by  Henry  Hotspur,  the  Earl  of  Worcester,  and 
the  Scotch  Earl  of  Douglas ;  and  the  King  marched 
directly  thither,  with  14,000  choice  troops,  headed  by 
himself,  the  Prince  of  Wales,  and  the  Scotch  Earl  of 
March;  and  on  the  22d  of  July,  at  a  place  afterwards 
called  Battle-field,  the  King  obtained  so  complete  a  vic- 
tory, that  about  10,000  of  the  rebels  were  killed,  among 
whom  was  the  brave  Hotspur,  who  fell  by  the  hands  of 
the  Prince  of  Wales, 

In  the  year  1405  another  conspiracy  was  raised,  at  the 
head  of  which  was  the  Archbishop  of  York,  the  Earl  of 
Northumberland,  Thomas  Mowbray,  Earl  Marshal,  and 
other  noblemen,  who  assembled  a  large  body  of  troops  at 
York,  and  published  a  manifesto,  declaring  the  King  a 
traitor,  and  that  they  were  resolved  to  place  Mortimer, 
the  lawful  heir,  on  the  throne.  But  this  rebellion  was 
soon  suppressed  by  the  good  policy  of  Ralph  Nevil,  Earl 
of  Westmoreland. 

Henry  died  in  the  Jerusalem  chamber  at  Westminster, 
on  the  20th  of  March,  1413,  in  the  46th  year  of  his  age, 
and  the  14th  of  his  reign,  and  was  interred  in  the  cathe- 
dral at  Canterbury. 


Henry  V.— From  1413  to  1422, 

This  Prince  was  the  eldest  son  of  Henry  IV.  and  was 
born  at  Monmouth  in  1388*    In  his  youth  he  was  led 


HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND. 


317 


into  wild  courses  ;  but  in  the  midst  of  all  his  extravagan- 
cies, he  gave  a  singular  proof  of  his  moderation,  in  suffer- 
ing himself  to  be  led  into  prison,  by  order  of  the  Lord 
Chief  Justice,  whom  he  struck  in  the  execution  of  his 
office :  and  this  circumstance  gave  the  people  the  great- 
est hope  that  he  would  soon  change  his  conduct,  nor 
were  they  disappointed.  He  succeeded  to  the  throne  at  25 
years  of  age,  and  was  crowned  at  Westminster  on  the 
9th  of  April,  1413.  The  next  year  commissioners  were 
appointed  for  adjusting  the  disputes  between  the  crowns 
of  England  and  France  ;  but  Henry,  seeing  that  nothing 
could  be  done  by  negociation,  resolved  to  have  recourse 
to  arms ;  when  Henry  Chichely,  Archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury, advised  him  to  lay  claim  to  the  whole  kingdom  of 
France,  as  the  heir  and  successor  of  Edward  III.  This 
war  was  approved  by  the  parliament.  He  therefore 
demanded  the  crow7n  of  France  as  his  right ;  upon  which, 
the  Dauphin,  in  contempt,  sent  him  a  present  of  a  ton  of 
tennis  balls,  to  let  him  know,  that  he  thought  him  fitter 
for  play  than  for  war ;  but  Henry  sent  him  word,  that  he 
would  soon  repay  him  with  such  balls  as  the  strongest 
gates  of  Paris  should  not  be  rackets  sufficient  to  rebound. 

Accordingly,  in  1415,  Henry  embarked  his  army, 
amounting  to  50,000  men,  about  the  beginning  of  August, 
on  board  1500  transport  ships  ;  and  landed  at  Havre-de- 
Grace,  in  Normandy,  on  the  21st  of  August,  and  imme- 
diately laid  siege  to  Harfleur,  which  surrendered  in  five 
weeks.  Soon  after  which,  the  French  having  assembled 
an  army  six  times  superior  to  the  King's,  they  challenged 
him  to  fight;  and  Henry  accepted  it,  though  the  French 
army  consisted  of  150,000  men,  and  the  English  were 
reduced  to  9000.  The  French  therefore  made  rejoicings 
in  their  camp  as  if  the  English  were  already  defeated, 
and  even  sent  to  Henry  to  know  what  he  would  give  for 
his  ransom  ;  to  which  he  replied,  that  a  few  hours  would 
show  whose  care  it  would  be  to  make  that  provision. 
The  English,  though  fatigued  with  their  march,  sick  of 
a  flux,  and  almost  starved  for  want  of  food,  were  inspired 
by  the  example  of  their  brave  king,  and  resolved  to  con- 
quer or  die.  In  this  situation,  Henry  sent  David  Gam,  a 
Welch  captain,  to  reconnoitre  the  enemy,  who  bravely 
26* 


318  young  man's  book  of  knowledge. 

reported,  that  there  were  enow  to  be  killed,  enow  to  bt 
taken  prisoners,  and  enow  to  run  away. 

The  King  was  encamped,  October  25,  1415,  on  a  plain 
near  Agincourt ;  and  having  drawn  up  his  small  army 
into  two  lines  (the  first  commanded  by  the  Duke  of  York, 
and  the  second  by  himself)  he  disposed  his  few  men  to  so 
much  advantage,  and  behaved  with  such  extraordinary 
conduct  and  courage,  that,  by  the  blessing  of  Divine 
Providence,  whose  assistance  he  publicly  and  solemnly 
implored  before  the  action,  by  offering  up  prayers,  and 
exhorting  his  troops  to  place  all  their  trust  in  God,  he 
gained  a  complete  victory,  after  having  been  several 
times  knocked  down,  and  in  the  most  imminent  danger 
of  losing  his  life.  The  English  killed  upwards  of  10,000 
men,  and  took  more  prisoners  than  they  had  men  in  the 
army  ;  but  an  alarm  being  given,  that  the  French  had 
plundered  the  English  camp,  and  were  returning  to  the 
fight,  they  were  ordered  to  kill  all  their  prisoners ;  an 
order  which  their  own  self-preservation  rendered  neces- 
sary ;  but  the  English  soldiers  had  too  much  humanity 
to  execute  it;  upon  which  a  band  of  ruffians  were  em- 
ployed in  this  massacre. 

Henry  publicly  returned  thanks  to  God,  and  acknow- 
ledged that  his  success  was  owing  to  the  favour  of  Hea- 
ven. The  loss  of  the  English  was  no  more  than  four 
hundred  men. 

In  1417,  the  King,  in  order  to  carry  on  the  war,  mort- 
gaged his  crown  for  100,000  marks,  and  part  of  his  jewels 
for  10,000/.  He  landed  at  Beville,  in  Normandy,  on  the 
1st  of  August,  with  25,000  men,  reduced  Caen,  &c. ;  and 
the  next  year  all  Normandy  fell  again  to  the  English. 

On  the  25th  of  May,  1420,  a  treaty  was  concluded  at 
Troy  between  England  and  France;  wherein  it  was 
agreed,  that  the  crown  of  France  should  descend  to  the 
King  of  England  and  his  heirs,  and  that  Henry  should 
marry  Catherine,  the  King  of  France's  daughter ;  which 
being  performed,  he  returned  to  England  with  his  queen, 
who  was  crowned  the  year  following  at  Westminster. 

Henry,  the  next  year,  advanced  into  France  with 
30,000  men ;  but  while  he  was  marching  towards  the 
river  Loire,  he  was  seized  with  a  pleuretic  fever,  and  was 


HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND. 


319 


carried  to  Vincennes,  where  he  sent  for  his  brother,  the 
Duke  of  Bedford,  &e.  and  recommended  Bedford  to  take 
upon  him  the  administration  of  affairs  in  France,  and 
that  the  Duke  of  Gloucester  might  be  protector  of  Eng- 
land ;  and  expired  about  two  hours  after,  on  the  31st  of 
August,  in  the  35th  year  of  his  age,  and  the  10th  of  his 
reign.  His  body  was  carried  to  Calais,  whence  it  was 
conveyed  to  England,  and  interred  in  Westminster  abbey. 

This  King  was  brave,  prudent,  magnanimous,  and 
merciful ;  and  though  he  died  in  the  flower  of  his  age, 
few  princes  have  left  behind  them  such  shining  proofs  of 
every  royal  virtue. 

This  reign  was  filled  with  too  many  glorious  actions, 
to  permit  historians  to  record  trifling  circumstances.  It 
is  worthy  of  remark,  however,  that  on  Candlemas-day, 
1415,  seven  dolphins  were  seen  playing  in  the  river 
Thames,  and  four  of  them  taken. 

Henry  VI.— From  1442  to  1461. 

Henry  of  Windsor  was  only  nine  months  old  when  his 
father  died.  This  young  prince  was  proclaimed  King1 
of  England,  and  heir  of  France ;  and  his  uncles,  John, 
Duke  of  Bedford,  and  Humphrey,  Duke  of  Gloucester, 
were  resolved  to  maintain  what  his  father  had  procured 
for  him.  But  as  Charles  VI.  died  at  Paris  on  the  20th 
of  October,  1421,  the  face  of  affairs  was  soon  changed  in 
France.  Henry  was  proclaimed  King  at  Paris,  and  the 
Dauphin  at  Poictiers ;  and  several  battles  were  fought, 
in  which  the  English  had  generally  the  advantage.  The 
Earl  of  Salisbury  had  invested  Orleans,  and  when  it  was 
near  being  surrendered,  a  country  girl,  named  Joan  of 
Arc,  who  had  been  bred  to  the  keeping  of  sheep,  under- 
took to  deliver  France  from  the  English.  She  bore  the 
arms  and  habit  of  a  man,  headed  the  French,  and,  by  her 
frequent  and  successful  sallies,  obliged  the  English  to 
raise  the  siege  ;  then  pursued  and  harassed  them,  retook 
several  places,  attacked  and  defeated  the  brave  Lord 
Talbot,  and  took  him  prisoner.  At  length,  after  a  num- 
ber of  astonishing  exploits,  this  great  heroine  was  taken 
at  Compeigne,  and  burnt  for  a  witch,  by  the  Duke  of 
Bedford's  order. 


320  young  man's  book  of  knowledge. 

At  twelve  years  of  age,  King  Henry  was  carried  to 
France,  and  crowned  at  Paris ;  but  still  the  war  conti- 
nued. The  Duke  of  Burgundy,  who  had  been  in  the 
English  interest,  joined  with  Charles,  and  Paris  shook  off 
its  allegiance  to  Henry.  The  Duke  of  Bedford  died 
about  this  time  \  so  that  a  truce  was  concluded,  when 
King  Henry's  marriage  with  Margaret  of  Anjou,  the 
daughter  of  the  titular  King  of  Sicily,  contributed  to 
complete  his  misfortunes. 

The  Queen  determined  to  ruin  the  Duke  of  Gloucester, 
who  was  presumptive  heir  to  the  crown.  He  was  seized, 
and,  being  closely  confined,  was  the  next  day  found  dead 
in  his  bed,  smothered  by  the  Queen's  order.  Gloucester's 
death  occasioned  the  Duke  of  York  to  lay  claim  to  the 
crown. 

This  Prince  was  descended  from  Lionel,  Duke  of  Cla- 
rence,  third  son  to  King  Edward  IIL,  and  King  Henry 
was  descended  from  John  of  Gaunt,  Duke  of  Lancaster, 
the  fourth  son  of  the  same  monarch  ;  so  that  the  right  of 
primogeniture  was  plainly  on  the  Duke's  side. 

This  reign  was  full  of  domestic  broils.  The  Duke  of 
York's  interest  gained  ground,  and  his  aims  were  at  first 
successful  against  the  King,  over  whom  he  gained  a 
complete  victory  at  St.  Alban's,  took  the  King  prisoner, 
and  conducted  him  to  London ;  and  calling  a  parliament 
in  Henry's  name,  was  declared  protector  of  the  kingdom. 

The  Queen  raised  an  army  in  the  north,  and  the  Duke 
of  York  advanced  to  meet  her ;  but  his  army  being  in- 
considerable, he  was  defeated  and  slain  at  Wakefield ; 
and  his  youngest  son,  the  Earl  of  Rutland,  not  above 
twelve  years  old,  was  cruelly  killed  by  Lord  Clifford ; 
and  the  Earl  of  Salisbury  was  beheaded, 

Richard  Plantagenet,  Duke  of  York,  being  thus  dead, 
Edward,  Earl  of  March,  his  eldest  son,  took  his  title,  and 
asserted  his  claim  to  the  crown  with  an  army  of  23,000 
men,  and,  being  victorious  in  several  engagements, 
marched  directly  to  London,  obliged  the  Queen  to  return 
into  the  north,  and  was  unanimously  acknowledged 
King. 

Thus  ended  the  reign  of  Henry  VI.  which  had  lasted 
38  years  and  a  half, 


HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND, 


321 


Edward  IV.— From  1461  to  1483. 

Edward  came  to  the  throne  in  the  year  1461,  and  the 
20th  of  his  age.  No  sooner  was  he  proclaimed  King, 
than  he  pursued  the  Queen  into  the  north ;  and  both 
armies  meeting,  a  bloody  battle  was  fought,  in  which 
30,000  men  were  slain,  and  the  King  and  Queen  de- 
feated ;  on  which  King  Henry  and  Margaret  fled  with 
the  young  Prince  to  Edinburgh ;  but  Henry,  returning 
into  England  soon  after  in  disguise,  was  seized,  and  con- 
ducted on  a  wretched  horse,  with  his  legs  tied  to  the 
stirrups,  to  the  Tower. 

The  Earl  of  Warwick  had  been  the  chief  instrument 
in  raising  Edward  to  the  throne ;  but  that  Prince  em- 
ploying him  to  negociate  a  marriage  for  him  in  France, 
and  in  the  mean  time  marrying  Elizabeth,  the  widow  of 
Sir  John  Grey,  the  Earl  was  so  exasperated,  that  he 
raised  a  rebellion,  in  which  he  twice  defeated  the  King's 
forces,  and  afterwards  took  his  Majesty  prisoner,  and 
confined  him  in  Middleham  castle,  from  whence  he  es- 
caped, and  joining  the  Lord  Hastings  in  Lancashire, 
returned  to  London ;  when  another  battle  ensued,  and 
Warwick's  army  being  defeated,  he  was  obliged  to  fly 
into  France.  The  Earl  of  Warwick  landed  soon  after 
at  Dartmouth  with  a  few  troops,  which  he  soon  increased 
to  60,000  men;  upon  which  Edward  also  raised  a  nu- 
merous army  at  Nottingham  ;  but  as  his  enemies  were 
advancing,  the  cry  of  King  Henry  was  raised  in  his 
camp,  on  which  Edward  fled  into  Flanders.  Warwick 
then  took  Henry  out  of  the  Tower,  and  he  was  again 
acknowledged  the  lawful  King  of  England.  But  Ed- 
ward afterwards  returning  to  London,  he  was  received 
with  acclamations  of  joy,  and  Henry  again  was  com- 
mitted to  the  Tower. 

Another  battle  was  fought  at  Barnet,  between  King 
Edward  and  the  Earl  of  Warwick,  in  which  the  great 
Earl  of  Warwick  was  slain,  and  17,000  men.  Some 
days  after,  the  remainder  of  the  Earl's  army  was  assem- 
bled by  the  Lancastrians,  and,  being  joined  by  other 
forces,  was  headed  by  the  Queen;  when  Edward  de- 
feated her  at  Tewkesbury,  and  took  her  prisoner,  with 


322  young  man's  book  of  knowledge. 

her  son,  Prince  Edward,  the  Duke  of  Somerset,  &c. 
The  Prince,  being  carried  to  Edward's  camp,  was  asked 
why  he  was  so  rash  as  to  enter  the  kingdom  in  arms ;  to 
which  he  boldly  replying,  that  he  came  to  recover  his 
right,  unjustly  usurped,  Edward  struck  him  with  his 
gauntlet  on  the  mouth  ;  when  the  Dukes  of  Gloucester 
and  Clarence,  the  Earl  of  Dorset,  and  the  Lord  Hastings, 
stabbed  him  with  their  daggers,  and  thus  massacred  "an 
amiable  prince  in  the  18th  year  of  his  age:  and  soon 
after  King  Henry  was  murdered  in  the  Tower  by  the 
Duke  of  Gloucester,  or,  as  others  say,  died  with  grief,  in 
the  42d  year  of  his  age. 

Queen  Margaret,  after  being  four  years  confined  in  the 
Tower,  was  ransomed  by  her  father  for  50,000  crowns. 
Edward  caused  his  brother,  the  Duke  of  Clarence,  to  be 
drowned  in  a  butt  of  sack.  At  length,  King  Edward 
was  seized  with  a  fever,  or,  according  to  others,  with  an 
apoplexy,  and  died  at  Westminster,  on  the  9th  of  April, 
1483,  in  the  42d  year  of  his  age,  and  the  23d  of  his 
reign.  King  Edward  had  a  curious  monument  in  the 
new  chapel  in  Windsor,  founded  by  himself.  Jane  Shore, 
whom  Edward  had  from  her  husband,  was  his  favourite 
mistress,  for  which  she  was  persecuted  in  the  reign  of 
Richard  III.  and  did  public  penance  in  St.  Paul's  church. 


Edward  V. — Two  Months  and  twelve  Bays  of  1483. 

This  young  Prince  was  at  Ludlow,  when  his  father 
died,  but,  being  sent  for  to  London,  was  trepanned  by  his 
uncle,  the  Duke  of  Gloucester,  and  lodged  in  the  Bishop 
of  London's  palace,  where,  on  the  4th  of  May,  1483,  he 
received  the  oaths  of  the  principal  nobility,  and  Glou- 
cester was  made  protector  of  the  King  and  kingdom :  he 
obliged  the  Queen  to  deliver  up  to  him  the  Duke  of  York 
also,  and  then  sent  them  both  to  the  Tower,  under  a  pre- 
tence of  preparing  for  the  coronation ;  the  Tower  at  that 
time  being  a  roj7al  palace,  from  which  the  procession  at 
coronations  was  usually  made  to  Westminster.  Mean- 
while the  Duke  of  Gloucester,  by  the  assistance  of  Staf- 
ford, Duke  of  Buckingham,  Sir  John  Shaw,  Lord  Mayor 
of  London,  and  Dr.  Shaw,  his  brother,  had  his  two  ne- 


HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND. 


323 


phcws,  and  even  the  late  King,  declared  illegitimate,  and 
himself  acknowledged  King  of  England,  pretending  at 
the  same  time  to  accept  the  crown  with  reluctance; 
though,  to  produce  this  revolution,  he  had  to  put  to  death 
the  Lord  Hastings,  who  was  strongly  attached  to  the 
young  King. 

As  Lord  Hastings  was  greatly  beloved  by  the  people, 
Gloucester  pretended,  that  the  ambition  of  Hastings  had 
endangered  the  safety  of  the  kingdom ;  though,  in  fact, 
he  was  arrested  only  on  a  trumped-up  charge  of  sorcery. 
The  Queen  and  Jane  Shore  were  accused  as  his  col- 
leagues, and  Jane  Shore  was  taken  into  custody,  but  was 
soon  after  released,  on  doing  penance. 

Richard's  first  care  was  to  despatch  the  young  Prince ; 
and  Sir  Robert  Brackenbury,  lieutenant  of  the  Tower, 
refusing  to  comply  with  his  cruel  designs,  he,  for  one 
night  only,  gave  the  command  of  the  Tower  to  Sir  James 
Tyrrell,  and  he  procured  two  villains,  who,  in  the  dead 
time  of  night,  entered  the  chamber  where  the  Princes  lay, 
and  smothered  them  in  bed;  after  which,  they  were  bu- 
ried under  the  stair-case,  where  their  bones  were  disco- 
vered 191  years  afterwards,  and,  by  order  of  King 
Charles  II.,  deposited  in  Westminster  abbey,  and  a  small 
monument  erected  to  their  memory  in  Henry  the  Se- 
venth's chapel. 

The  tyrant  Richard,  his  tool  Buckingham,  and  the 
other  murderers,  were  soon  after  overtaken  by  the  arm 
of  the  Almighty. 

Richard  III.— from  1483  to  1485. 

Richard,  the  brother  of  King  Edward  IV.  and  the 
uncle  and  murderer  of  King  Edward  V.,'  was  proclaimed 
King  on  the  20th  of  June,  1483,  but  was  not  crowned 
till  the  6th  of  July.  He  was  now  in  the  32d  year  of  his 
age,  and,  as  he  had  waded  to  the  throne  through  injus- 
tice and  violence,  he  endeavoured  to  gain  the  favour  Of 
the  nation  by  popular  laws.  However,  though  he  had 
promised  the  duchy  of  Hereford  to  the  Duke  of  Buck- 
ingham, his  chief  instrument,  he  refused  to  perform  that 
promise.    At  this  Buckingham  being  exasperated,  left 


324        young  man's  book  of  knowledge. 


the  court,  and  entered  into  a  confederacy  with  Henry, 
Earl  of  Richmond,  the  next  heir  to  the  crown  of  the 
Lancaster  race,  who  was  still  in  Brittany,  where  his 
mother  informed  him  of  what  had  happened  in  England, 
**,nd  desired  he  would  speedily  land  in  Wales.  Mean- 
while, the  King  suspected  a  conspiracy,  and  sent  for 
Buckingham  to  court,  who  refused  to  obey  the  summons, 
immediately  collected  his  forces  in  Wales,  and  began  to 
march  towards  the  western  counties;  but  the  Severn 
rising  with  a  great  inundation,  he  was  unable  to  pass 
that  river,  and  his  army  dispersed,  and  left  him  only  with 
a  single  servant.  In  this  melancholy  situation  he  retired 
into  Shropshire,  and  sheltered  himself  in  the  house  of 
Ralph  Bannister,  who  had  been  his  servant,  and  received 
many  favours  from  him,  but  the  King  offering  1000Z. 
reward  for  the  taking  of  him,  Bannister  villainously  be- 
trayed his  master,  who  was  beheaded  at  Shrewsbury, 
without  any  legal  process, 

The  Earl  of  Richmond  at  length  sailed  for  England, 
with  forty  ships  and  five  hundred  men,  but  his  fleet  being 
dispersed  in  a  storm,  he  was  obliged  to  return.  Upon 
this  Richard  cruelly  sacrificed  all  whom  he  suspected  to 
favour  the  Earl,  concluded  an  alliance  with  the  Scots, 
and  even  corrupted  the  Duke  of  Brittany's  treasures  to 
destroy  Richmond,  but  he  fortunately  saved  himself  by 
escaping  into  France. 

As  Henry  had  solemnly  engaged  to  marry  Elizabeth, 
the  eldest  daughter  of  Edward  IV.  Richard  poisoned  his 
own  wife,  and  then  endeavoured,  without  effect  to  pre- 
vail on  the  young  princess  his  niece  to  accept  him  for 
her  husband.  Meanwhile  Henry  landed  at  Milford- 
Haven,  with  only  2000  men,  immediately  began  his 
march  towards  Shrewsbury,  and  was  joined  by  many  of 
the  nobilitv  writh  all  the  forces  they  could  raise.  At  length 
both  armies  met.  at  Bosworth,  the  King  having  13,000 
men,  and  the  Earl  only  5000.  The  engagement  was 
hot  and  doubtful,  till  the  Lord  Stanley  and  his  brother 
joined  the  Earl  with  fresh  troops,  when  Richmond  soon 
obtained  the  victory,  in  which  King  Richard  lost  his 
life ;  and  the  crown  being  found  in  the  field  of  battle  was 
placed  on  Henry's  head.  Richard's  body  was  after  the 
battle  found  entirely  naked,  covered  with  blood  and  dirt, 


IlISTOR?  OF  ENGLAND. 


325 


and  being  thrown  across  a  horse  was  conveyed  to  Lei- 
cester, and  interred  without  the  least  ceremony. 

Thus  fell  Richard  on  the  22d  of  August,  1405,  in  the 
34th  year  of  his  age,  and  the  third  of  his  reign.  He  was, 
from  his  deformity,  surnamed  Crook-backed,  and  one  of 
his  arms  was  almost  withered.  He  had  a  solid  judg- 
ment, and  was  naturally  brave. 

Richard  left  only  a  natural  son,  who,  perceiving  his 
father's  fate,  went  to  London,  and  put  himself  apprentice 
to  a  bricklayer,  which  business  he  occupied  to  his  death. 


Henry  VIL—From  1485  to  1502. 

Henry,  having  defeated  King  Richard,  was  crowned 
at  Westminster,  on  the  30th  of  October,  1485,  and  the 
next  year  married  the  Lady  Elizabeth,  the  eldest  daugh- 
ter of  King  Edward  IV.  by  which  means  the  two  houses 
of  York  and  Lancaster  became  united.  However,  the 
house  of  York  procured  one  Lambert  Simnel,  a  young 
student  at  Oxford,  to  pretend  that  he  was  the  son  of  the 
Duke  of  Clarence,  brother  to  King  Edward  IV.  but  after 
being  crowned  King  in  several  places  he  was  defeated 
and  taken  prisoner :  yet  the  King  spared  his  life,  made 
him  turnspit  in  his  kitchen,  and  afterwards  his  falconer. 

Soon  after,  Margaret,  Dutchess  of  Burgundy,  a  prin- 
cess of  the  house  of  York,  introduced  another  pretender, 
named  Perkin  Warbeck :  he  personated  Richard,  Duke 
of  York,  Edward  the  Fifth's  brother,  who  was  smothered 
with  that  prince  in  the  Tower.  This  adventurer  at- 
tempted to  land  in  Kent  with  a  few  followers  ;  but  seve- 
ral of  his  adherents  being  executed,  he  fled  to  Ireland, 
and  from  thence  to  Scotland,  where  he  married  the  Earl 
of  Huntly's  daughter,  and  was  twice  sent  with  an  army 
into  England,  by  the  King  of  Scotland ;  but,  being  both 
times  defeated,  was  obliged  to  retire  into  Cornwall,  where 
he  raised  an  army,  with  which  he  laid  siege  to  Exeter  ; 
but  the  King's  forces  advancing,  he  fled  again ;  when 
his  wife  being  taken,  a  pension  was  assigned  her,  on 
account  of  her  family  and  beauty.  Perkin,  some  time 
after,  surrendered  himself,  and  was  committed  to  the 
Tower,  where  he  made  his  escape  ;  but  was  again  taken, 

27 


326 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


and  endeavouring  to  corrupt  his  keepers,  was  at  length 
hanged.  Henry  also,  for  his  own  security,  caused  the 
Earl  of  Warwick,  the  Duke  of  Clarence's  son,  whom 
Simnel  had  personated,  and  who  had  been  confined  in 
the  Tower  from  his  infancy,  to  be  beheaded. 

King  Henry  married  his  eldest  son  Arthur,  to  Catha- 
rine, the  daughter  of  Ferdinand,  King  of  Spain,  and  his 
daughter  Margaret,  to  James,  King  of  Scotland  ;  when 
England,  being  blessed  with  tranquility,  he  was  con- 
tinually making  use  of  new  means  to  heap  up  riches  for 
which  he  had  no  use :  for  this  purpose,  he  employed  Sir 
Richard  Empson  and  Edmund  Dudley,  two  lawyers, 
who  caused  many  wealthy  persons  to  be  indicted  for 
several  crimes,  and  then  obliged  them  to  compound  with 
the  King  ;  by  which,  and  other  illegal  and  shameful  op- 
pressions, the  King  amassed  1,800,000/.  sterling,  which  x- 
was  more  than  double  the  value  in  our  present  money. 

At  length,  Henry  grew  so  absolute,  that  no  man  durst 
oppose  him.  But  a  little  before  his  death,  he  ordered  by 
his  will,  that  his  heirs  should  restore  what  his  officers  and 
ministers  had  unjustly  taken  from  his  subjects.  He  died 
at  Richmond,  in  Surry,  on  the  2 2d  of  April,  1509,  in  the 
53d  year  of  his  age,  and  the  24th  of  his  reign,  and  was 
interred  in  his  own  new  chapel  at  Westminster.  Both 
the  chapel  and  his  monument  are  exquisite  pieces  of 
workmanship. 

Henry  exceeded  the  common  stature,  was  straight- 
limbed,  but  slender,  and  had  a  handsome  person.  In  the 
year  14S7,  he  instituted  the  Star-chamber,  under  the  pre- 
tence that  the  channels  of  justice  were  corrupted.  He 
promoted  commerce,  and  sent  Sebastian  Cabot  to  make 
new  discoveries  in  America,  In  his  15th  year  was  a 
great  plague,  of  which  30,000  died  in  London. 


Henry  Vlll.—From  1509  to  1547. 

Henry  VIII.  was  born  at  Greenwich,  on  the  28th  of 
June,  1491,  and  succeeded  his  father,  Henry  VII.  on  the 
22d  of  April,  1509,  in  the  the  18th  year  of  his  age.  He 
redressed  the  grievances  of  the  former  reign,  put  Empson 
and  Dudley  to  death,  and  wrote  a  book  against  Luther  ; 


HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND. 


327 


on  which  the  Pope  conferred  on  him  and  his  successors, 
the  title  of  Defender  of  the  Faith.  Soon  after  his  acces- 
sion,  he  passed  over  into  France,  and  took  Terouane, 
Tournay,  and  some  other  places.  In  the  mean  time, 
King  James  of  Scotland,  invaded  England,  but  was  de- 
feated at  the  famous  battle  of  Flodden-field,  when  King 
James,  many  nobles,  and  9000  common  soldiers  were 
slain. 

In  this  reign,  Thomas  Wolsey,  the  son  of  a  butcher  at 
Ipswich,  from  being  a  common  priest,  was  at  length 
raised  to  the  See  of  York,  the  dignity  of  a  Cardinal,  and 
the  post  of  Lord  High  Chancellor  of  England.  His  pride 
increased  with  his  riches,  and  he  caused  the  Duke  of 
Buckingham  to  be  beheaded  for  saying,  That  if  the  King 
died  without  heirs,  he  thought  he  had  a  right  to  the  throne; 
but  the  real  cause  was  his  affronting  the  Cardinal,  by 
pouring  water  into  his  shoes,  when  he  had  the  impudence 
to  dip  his  hands  in  the  bason  while  the  Duke  held  it  to 
the  king  to  wash.  Cardinal  Wolsey  afterwards  lost  the 
favour  of  the  king,  and  was  arrested  for  high  treason  j 
this  threw  him  into  a  fit  of  illness,  of  which  he  died. 
King  Henry  having  conceived  a  passion  for  Anna  Bullen, 
caused  his  Queen,  Catherine  to  be  divorced,  under  pre- 
tence of  her  having  been  first  married  to  his  brother  Ar- 
thur; and  married  Anna  Bullen,  Nov.  14,  1532,  and  she 
was  crowned  the  first  of  July  following.  By  the  former 
he  had  Mary,  and  by  the  latter,  Elizabeth.  The  Pope 
now  threatening  to  excommunicate  Henry,  both  he  and 
the  Parliament  were  so  exasperated,  that  in  1534,  they 
passed  an  act,  abolishing  the  Papal  authority  in  England. 
The  Parliament  now  acknowledged  the  King  supreme 
head  of  the  church  ;  for  refusing  to  acknowledge  which, 
Bishop  Fisher,  Sir  Thomas  Moore,  and  others  lost  their 
heads. 

Henry  wTas  then  excommunicated,  and  his  subjects 
absolved  from  their  allegiance ;  upon  which  the  king 
suppressed  their  monasteries,  and  seized  their  revenues, 
&c. 

Queen  Anna  Bullen  lived  with  the  king  only  till  she 
had  borne  the  Princess  Elizabeth.  Soon  after  which, 
she  was  cruelly  beheaded,  with  some  of  her  relations  and 
domestics,  on  a  charge  of  incontinency  ;  of  which  there 


328 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


is  the  greatest  reason  to  believe  her  innocent.  Henry 
then  married  Jane  Seymour,  who  died  in  child-bed  of 
Prince  Edward ;  when  it  being  impossible  to  save  both, 
he  was  asked  which  should  be  spared,  the  mother  or  the 
child;  he  replied,  That  he  could  easily  'procure  another 
toife,  but  was  not  sure  that  he  should  have  another  son. 
He  next  married  Anna,  of  Cleves,  whom  he  soon  divorced, 
and  then  beheaded  ;  as  he  did  Thomas,  Lord  Cromwell 
for  promoting  that  match.  His  fifth  wife,  Catharine 
Howard,  was,  like  Anna  Bullen,  beheaded  for  adultery ; 
and  Deerham,  Madnock,  and  Culpepper,  confessing  that 
they  had  often  lain  with  her,  were  all  three  beheaded. 
But  Catharine  Parr,  his  last  wife,  survived  him. 

Henry  died  in  the  night  between  the  28th  and  29th  of 
January,  1547,  in  the  57th  year  of  his  age,  and  3Sth  of 
his  reign,  and  was  interred  at  Windsor. 


Edward  VI. — From  1547  tc  1553 

Edward,  the  only  son  of  King  Henry  VIII.  and  Jane 
Seymour,  ascended  the  throne  at  nine  years  of  age,  being 
well  skilled  in  the  Latin  and  French  tongues,  and  had 
acquired  some  knowledge  of  the  Greek,  Italian,  and 
Spanish,  and  was  committed  to  the  care  of  sixteen  per- 
sons, whom  Henry  had  nominated  regents,  and  governors 
of  his  son;  the  chief  of  whom  was  the  Earl  of  Hertford, 
the  King's  uncle,  by  the  mother's  side,  who  was  soon 
after  made  Duke  of  Somerset,  and  protector  to  the  young 
•King. 

Henry  left  the  reformation  very  imperfect ;  but  the 
protector,  assisted  by  Archbishop  Cranmer,  &c.  made  use 
of  this  opportunity  to  improve  it. 

The  young  Queen  of  Scotland  was  now  demanded  in 
marriage  for  King  Edward :  but  the  same  proposal  being 
made  by  France  in  behalf  of  the  Dauphin,  she  was  sent 
into  that  kingdom  :  on  which  the  Duke  of  Somerset  in- 
vaded Scotland,  met  their  army  at  Musselburgh,  and 
though  the  Duke's  army  amounted  to  only  18.000  men, 
and  the  Scots  to  30,000,  the  Scots  were  defeated  with  the 
loss  of  14,000  killed,  and  1500  prisoners:  and  what  is 


HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND. 


329 


surprising,  the  English  are  said  to  have  lost  only  31 
horsemen,  and  1  foot  soldier. 

Private  masses  were  now  laid  aside ;  prayers  were  read 
in  English,  &c.  However,  Joan  Bocker,  embracing  the 
opinions  of  the  German  Baptists,  was  burnt  as  a  heretic  ; 
but  the  young  king  set  his  hand  to  the  warrant  with 
tears  in  his  eyes,  telling  Archbishop  Cranmer,  "  That  if 
he  did  wrong,  since  it  was  in  submission  to  his  authority, 
he  should  answer  to  God  for  it." 

These  alterations  occasioned  great  disturbance  in  the 
kingdom,  which  were  at  length  suppressed,  some  by  force 
and  others  by  a  proclamation  for  a  general  pardon. 

The  duke  of  Somerset's  power  raised  him  many  ene- 
mies, the  chief  of  whom  was  his  brother,  Thomas  Lord 
Seymour;  but  articles  of  accusation  being  exhibited 
against  him,  he  was  attainted  in  Parliament,  and  with- 
out an  open  trial  condemned  and  beheaded.  The  Duke 
of  Somerset  was  some  time  after  charged  with  a  design 
to  seize  the  King,  and  to  imprison  the  Earl  of  Warwick, 
which  was  both  felony  and  treason.  He  was  acquitted 
of  treason,  but  condemned  for  felony ;  and  the  jroung 
King  being  prevailed  upon  to  sign  the  sentence,  he  was 
executed  some  time  after.  The  Earl  of  Warwick,  now 
Duke  of  Northumberland,  succeeded  to  the  Duke  of  So- 
merset's power,  and  at  length  (on  the  King's  being  taken 
ill  of  the  measles)  married  the  Lord  Guildford  Dudley, 
his  fourth  son,  to  the  Lady  Jane  Grey,  eldest  daughter  to 
the  Duke  of  Suffolk,  and  persuaded  Edward  to  settle  the 
crown  on  her ;  his  sisters,  Mary  and  Elizabeth,  having 
been  both  declared  illegitimate  during  the  life-time  of  their 
father ;  and  the  Prince  hoping  to  save  the  reformation 
from  impending  destruction,  appointed  her  his  successor, 
and  soon  after  died,  July  6,  1553,  in  the  16th  year  of  his 
age,  and  7th  of  his  reign.  He  was  interred  in  Westmin- 
ster Abbey,  but  his  monument  was  afterwards  destroyed 
in  the  civil  wars. 


Mart  I. — From  1553  to  1558. 

The  Duke  of  Northumberland  kept  the  death  of  the 
young  King  for  some  time  concealed;  and  when  the 

27* 


330 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


Lady  Jane,  who  was  distinguished  by  her  beauty,  virtue, 
and  learning,  was  informed  of  the  settlement  which  her 
cousin  Edward  had  made  of  the  crown,  she  was.  with 
difficulty  prevailed  on  to  receive  it,  but  was  proclaimed  in 
London  with  the  usual  formalities.  In  the  mean  time, 
the  counties  of  Norfolk  and  Suffolk  declared  for  Mary, 
and  furnished  her  with  troops,  on  her  promising  to  leave 
religion  in  the  same  state  she  found  it.  The  Duke  of 
Northumberland  marched  from  London  to  oppose  them; 
but  being  deserted  by  his  troops,  he  endeavoured  to  save 
himself  by  declaring  for  Mary ;  and  in  Cambridge  mar- 
ket-place he  proclaimed  her  Glueen.  The  Duke  of  Suf- 
folk was  ordered  by  the  council  to  deliver  up  the  TowTer, 
and  the  Lady  Jane  Grey  to  quit  the  the  title  of  Glueen, 

Marjr  Was  determined  to  sacrifice  those  whom  she  con- 
sidered as  her  principal  enemies.  The  Duke  of  Nor- 
thumberland, with  several  other  persons  of  distinction, 
were  tried  and  executed. 

She  was  crowned  on  the  1st  of  October,  1553.  She 
soon  after  married  Philip  II.  King  of  Spain,  and  openly 
declared  for  popery.  An  insurrection  in  Kent  was  raised 
by  Sir  Thomas  Wyatt,  who  was  beheaded  ;  and  the 
Duke  of  Suffolk,  endeavouring  to  raise  forces  in  War- 
wickshire, not  only  that  Duke,  but  his  daughter,  the 
Lady  Jane  Grey,  and  the  Lord  Guildford  Dudley,  his 
son-in-law,  were  beheaded. 

Persecution  for  religion,  was  now  carried  to  a  terrible 
height:  Cranmer,  Ridley,  Latimer,  and  Ferrar,  with 
some  hundreds  of  persons,  of  different  ranks  and  sexes, 
were  burnt  alive.  The  Princess  Elizabeth  was  closely 
watched,  and  obliged  to  dissemble  her  religious  senti- 
ments; and  her  answer  to  Gardiner,  who  put  the  dange- 
rous question  concerning  these  words  of  Christ,  "This  is 
my  body,"  was  full  of  caution,  and  a  proof  of  her  wit  and 
good  sense. 

Christ  was  the  word  that  spake  it ; 
He  took  the  bread  and  brake  it ; 
And  what  the  world  did  make  it, 
That  I  believe  and  take  it. 

The  people  of  England  were  greatly  disgusted  at  the 
behaviour  of  Philip,  who,  soon  after  his  arrival,  declared 


HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND. 


331 


war  against  France,  and  obtained  a  supply  of  8,000  Eng- 
lish, by  whose  assistance  the  French  were  defeated  at 
the  battle  of  St.  Quintin  J  but  they  soon  after  took  Calais, 
which  was  the  only  strong  place  the  English  had  left  in 
France.  Philip  had  before  been  greatly  disgusted  with 
the  Queen,  for  falsely  imagining  herself  with  child ;  and 
this,  added  to  the  loss  of  Calais,  threw  her  into  an  ill  state 
of  health ;  and  while  the  people  saw  nothing  but  cruelty 
in  the  council,  poverty  in  the  exchequer,  pride  in  the 
court,  dissension  at  home,  and  contempt  abroad,  she  died 
on  the  17th  of  November,  1558,  in  the  43d  jTear  of  her 
age,  and  was  interred  in  King  Henry  VII. 's  chapel,  at 
Westminster. 


Elizabeth. — From  1558  to  1603. 

Elizabeth  was  proclaimed  Queen  the  day  her  sister 
died,  The  House  of  Commons  addressing  the  Queen  to 
marry,  she  excused  herself  by  saying,  that  by  the  cere- 
mony of  her  inauguration  she  was  married  to  her  people. 

The  Dauphin  having  married  Mary,  Queen  of  Scot- 
land, they  assumed  the  title  of  King  and  Queen  of  Scot- 
land, England,  and  Ireland.  But  Mary  becoming  a 
widow,  by  the  death  of  Francis  II.  King  of  France  and 
Scotland,  she  quitted  the  title  of  Queen  of  England,  and 
returned  to  her  own  kingdom.  She  then  married  her 
cousin,  Henry  Stuart,  Lord  Darnley ;  but  being  accused 
of  many  familiarities  with  Rizzio,  her  husband  became 
jealous,  on  which  the  Earl  of  Moreton  and  some  others 
murdered  Rizzio.  Queen  Mary  now  bestowed  all  her 
favours  on  the  Earl  of  Bothwell,  who  murdered  the  King 
soon  after  her  delivery  of  a  prince,  who  was  afterwards 
lames  I.  King  of  England,  and  a  few  months  after  the 
murder,  that  Earl  married  the  Queen.  But  Mary  being 
in  danger  of  her  life,  fled  to  England,  where  she  was  im- 
prisoned by  Queen  Elizabeth.  The  new  born  prince 
was  immediately  set  on  the  throne  of  Scotland ;  and 
Mary,  after  eighteen  years  confinement,  was  beheaded 
for  a  conspiracy  carried  on  in  her  favour. 

Queen  Elizabeth  assisted  to  the  utmost  of  her  power, 
the  Protestants  both  of  France  and  Holland.    Philip  IL 


332        young  man's  book  of  knowledge. 


King  of  Spain,  exasperated  at  the  assistance  Elizabeth 
had  given  the  Dutch,  though  he  had  before  sought  her 
in  marriage,  now  formed  the  design  of  dethroning  her, 
and  prepared  a  prodigious  fleet,  which  was  called  the 
Invincible  Armada ;  but  that  fleet  having  entered  the 
Channel,  was  bravely  attacked  by  Elizabeth's  admirals, 
on  the  21st  of  July,  1553  ;  when,  after  a  bloody  engage- 
ment, the  English  Admirals  convinced  the  seamen,  that 
the  dreadful  apprehensions  they  had  entertained  of  the 
large  Spanish  ships  were  groundless.  The  action  was 
renewed  on  the  23d,  when  a  sharp  engagement  ensued 
off  Portland.  A  running  fight  was  continued  the  next 
day ;  and  on  the  25th  another  terrible  rencounter  hap- 
pened off  the  Isle  of  Wight.  The  Spaniards  then  bore 
down  to  the  coast  of  Flanders,  and  were  still  pursued  by 
the  English  ;  who,  in  the  night  of  the  28th,  sent  eight 
fire-ships  among  the  Spanish  fleet,  which  had  anchored 
off  Calais.  The  Spaniards  then  cut  their  cables  and  put 
to  sea,  were  pursued  by  the  English,  who  took  some  of 
their  ships,  and  drove  the  rest  on  the  coast  of  Zealand  : 
but  the  wind  chopping  about,  they  escaped  and  returned 
home  by  sailing  round  Scotland  and  Ireland  ;  in  which 
attempt  several  of  their  ships  were  taken  by  the  English, 
and  many  of  them  were  wrecked  by  tempests  on  the 
coast  of  Ireland ;  very  few  of  that  Armada  were  able  to 
get  back  into  the  ports  of  Spain.  Lord  Howard,  of  Ef- 
fingham, Sir  Francis  Drake,  Captain  Hawkins,  and 
Captain  Forbisher,  were  the  chief  commanders.  The 
Spaniards  lost  32  capital  ships,  with  13,500  men. 

The  next  year  she  sent  a  fleet  of  100  sail,  under  the 
command  of  Sir  Francis  Drake  and  John  Norris,  who 
plundered  the  Groyn,  seized  60  ships  in  the  Tagus,  and 
destroj^ecl  Vigo. 

The  Spaniards,  in  1596,  were  preparing  to  invade 
England  again ;  upon  which  the  Glueen  fitted  out  a  fleet 
of  150  sail,  with  22  Dutch  ships,  under  Howard,  Essex, 
Raleigh,  and  Vere ;  when  the  Spanish  fleet,  which  lay 
at  Cadiz,  was  defeated  by  Raleigh,  who  took  4  ships, 
and  the  rest,  which  consisted  of  13  men  of  war,  11  ships 
freighted  for  the  Indies,  and  33  others  were  burnt  by  the 
Spanish  admiral  himself,  after  his  having  offered  in  vain 
to  ransom  them  for  two  millions  of  ducats.    The  stores 


HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND. 


333 


prepared  against  England  were  seized,  the  city  plundered 
and  burnt  to  the  ground,  and  the  loss  of  the  Spaniards 
was  estimated  at  about  twenty  millions  of  ducats.  The 
English  returned  with  a  prodigious  booty. 

The  Earl  of  Essex,  who  was  the  Queen's  favourite, 
was  sent  as  deputy -lieu  tenant  to  Ireland,  with  20,000 
men,  to  quell  a  rebellion,  raised  by  the  Earl  of  Tyrone. 
Essex,  rinding  he  had  enemies  near  the  Queen,  solicited 
in  vain  to  return  to  England :  he  then  grew  inactive, 
and  the  rebels  gained  ground.  At  length,  concluding  a 
truce  with  Tyrone,  he  returned  to  England ;  but  was 
soon  after  suspended  from  all  his  employments ;  after- 
wards attempting  a  change  in  the  ministry,  he  was  be- 
headed. Tyrone  was  at  length  defeated  by  Lord  Mount- 
joy,  and  implored  the  Queen's  mercy. 

Elizabeth  died  on  the  24th  of  March,  1603,  in  the  70th 
year  of  her  age.  She  was  interred  in  Henry  VII.'s 
chapel. 

She  understood  the  Greek,  Latin,  French,  Spanish, 
and  Dutch  languages ;  spoke  all  but  the  last  with  great 
fluency,  and  encouraged  them  at  her  court. 


James  I. — From  1603  to  1625. 

On  the  death  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  James  VL  of  Scot- 
land, was  next  heir  to  the  crown,  he  being  descended 
from  the  eldest  daughter  of  King  Henry  VII.  and  in  him 
the  crowns  of  England  and  Scotland  were  united.  King 
James  and  his  Queen  were  crowned  at  Westminster,  on 
the  25th  of  July,  1603. 

In  1605,  the  plot  to  destroy  the  King  and  parliament, 
was  discovered  by  an  anonymous  letter,  directed  to  Lord 
Monteagle.  In  a  cellar,  under  the  parliament  house, 
there  were  found  36  barrels  of  gunpowder,  upon  which 
were  laid  bars  of  iron,  massy  stones,  &c.  near  to  which 
was  Guy  Fawkes,  concealed  with  a  dark  lanthorn  and 
three  matches,  who  instantly  confessed  himself  guilty ; 
and  with  Sir  Everard  Digby,  Catesby,and  several  others, 
were  executed.  Frederick,  Elector  Palatine,  married 
the  King's  daughter  Elizabeth,  from  which  marriage  the 
present  royal  family  descended;  the  Princess  Sophia* 


334 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


King  George  the  First's  mother,  being  the  immediate 
issue  of  it.  A  little  before  this  marriage,  Prince  Henry, 
the  King's  eldest  son,  and  Prince  of  Wales,  died  in  the 
18th  year  of  his  age.  It  was  generally  believed  he  was 
poisoned  by  Rochester,  the  royal  favourite* 

The  great  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  the  glory  of  his  country, 
had  been  thrown  into  prison  for  being  one  of  the  princi* 
pals  in  a  ridiculous  plot,  pretended  to  have  been  formed 
in  favour  of  King  James's  cousin-german,  the  Lady 
Arabella  Stuart,  before  James's  coronation,  of  which  he 
was  unjustly  found  guilty,  without  legal  proof,  and  had 
been  fourteen  years  confined  in  the  Tower,  when  he  was 
discharged,  and  sent  on  an  expedition  in  quest  of  a  gold 
mine,  on  the  coast  of  Guiana ;  but  returning  without  ef* 
fecting  the  discovery,  to  please  the  Count  of  Gohdomer, 
the  Spanish  ambassador,  he  was  re-committed  to  the 
Tower,  and  cruelly  beheaded  on  his  former  sentence. 

The  Dutch,  who  owed  their  freedom  to  England,  now 
despised  James's  power,  and  massacred  the  English  at 
Amboyna ;  where  they  put  the  factory  to  death,  and 
seized  their  effects. 

King  James's  son,  Charles,  Prince  of  Wales,  was  mar- 
ried to  the  daughter  of  the  French  King,  Henry  IV.  and 
as  she  was  a  Papist,  she  established  that  religion  in  the 
family  of  the  Stuarts.  King  James  died  on  the  27th  of 
March,  1625,  in  the  59th  year  of  his  age,  and  was  buried 
in  Westminster  Abbey. 

His  ignorance  of  the  English  constitution  induced 
him  to  strain  the  royal  prerogative.  He  had,  however, 
some  virtue  blended  with  his  many  vices,  and  he  pro- 
moted  the  commerce  of  the  kingdom. 

In  1606,  Virginia  was  planted  with  an  English  colony, 
soon  after  which  new  England,  and  the  Bermuda  Isl- 
ands, were  made  English  plantations. 


Charles  I. — From  1625  to  1649. 

King  Charles  was  born  at  Dumfermline,  in  Scotland, 
on  the  19th  of  November,  1600,  and  succeeded  his  father, 
James  I.,  in  the  25th  year  of  his  age,  but  was  not  crowned 
till  the  2d  of  February,  1626. 


HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND. 


335 


King  Charles,  soon  after  his  marriage,  entered  into  a 
war  with  Spain,  and  sent  a  fleet  against  Cadiz,  which 
proved  unsuccessful.  However,  resolving  to  carry  on 
the  war,  and  the  exchequer  being  exhausted,  he  called  a 
parliament,  when  supplies  not  being  granted,  he  had 
recourse  to  raising  money  without  a  parliament. 

He  then  declared  war  against  France,  in  which  meet- 
ing with  no  success,  a  peace  was  concluded  between 
England,  France,  and  Spain.  After  this,  the  King 
called  another  parliament,  and  endeavoured  to  have  the 
duty  of  tonnage  and  poundage,  (granted  only  for  certain 
purposes,)  put  entirely  into  his  hands ;  but  the  parliament 
not  complying,  he  dissolved  them.  The  revenues  of  the 
crown  being  now  insufficient  for  its  support,  the  ministers 
proceeded  to  the  following  rigorous  methods  of  raising 
money,  viz.  They  exacted  the  duty  of  tonnage  and 
poundage  ;  granted  very  numerous  monopolies  ;  a  gene- 
ral loan  was  proposed,  and  the  people  had  soldiers  bil- 
leted on  them  to  compel  payment ;  several  gentlemen 
were  imprisoned  for  not  subscribing  ;  and  a  tax  was  im- 
posed under  pretence  of  protecting  the  coast  from  pirates. 
The  dissenters  were  severely  persecuted,  and  the  King 
obtained  considerable  sums  by  heavy  fines  imposed  in  the 
Star  Chamber. 

After  a  long  disuse  of  parliaments,  Charles  was  obliged 
to  recall  one,  in  1640  ;  they  renewed  the  complaint  of 
grievances  ;  extorted  a  favourable  declaration  from  the 
King,  and  even  obliged  hirn  to  make  the  parliament  per- 
petual, unless  they  consented  to  their  dissolution. 

Wentworth,  Earl  of  Stafford,  and  Laud,  Archbishop 
of  Canterbury,  being  the  King's  principal  advisers,  were 
both  tried  and  beheaded. 

A  rebellion  broke  out  in  Ireland,  in  which  150,000 
Protestants  were  cruelly  put  to  death  by  the  Papists, 
pretending  that  they  acted  by  the  King's  authority, 
though  he  solemnly  disclaimed  it.  In  short,  tumults 
between  the  King  and  parliament  now  began  to  run 
high  ;  but  the  first  act  of  hostility  was  the  King's  ap- 
pearing before  Hull,  and  summoning  Sir  John  Hotham, 
the  governor,  to  surrender,  which  he  absolutely  refused. 

King  Charles  then  set  up  his  standard  at  Nottingham ; 
and  the  parliament  raised  forces,  and  made  the  Earl  of 


336 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


Essex  their  general ;  and  soon  after  a  battle  was  fought 
near  Edge  Hill,  in  which  each  party  claimed  the  victory, 
and  about  5000  men  were  killed  on  both  sides. 

The  next  year  the  King's  army  was  successful  in  the 
west  of  England  ;  but  his  forces  in  the  north  were  en- 
tirely routed  at  Marston  Moor,  and  the  King  engaging 
with  Essex  again  at  Newbury,  was  obliged  to  retreat 
with  great  loss. 

In  1645,  Sir  Thomas  Fairfax  was  made  general  in 
chief  over  the  parliament's  forces,  in  the  room  of  the  Earl 
of  Essex,  and  Oliver  Cromwell  was  appointed  lieutenant- 
general  :  when  the  two  armies  came  to  an  engagement, 
the  parliamentarians  obtained  a  complete  victory. 

The  next  year  the  King  made  his  escape  to  the  Scotch 
army  ;  but  the  Scotch  at  last  consented  to  deliver  the 
King  to  the  parliament,  in  consideration  of  the  sum  of 
400,000/.  which  was  done  at  Newcastle,  on  the  30th  of 
January,  1647,  wThen  he  was  escorted  by  Sir  Thomas 
Fairfax,  with  900  horse  to  Holmby  House,  in  Northamp- 
tonshire. 

Cromwell,  who  had  distinguished  himself  by  his  mili- 
tary bravery,  now  ingratiated  himself  with  the  soldiery, 
and  became  formidable  to  the  parliament  itself.  He  in- 
troduced the  officers,  and  some  of  the  most  sensible  of  the 
common  soldiers  into  the  House  of  Commons,  under  the 
name  of  Agitators ;  and  Cromwell  acted  as  their  King. 
They  sent  to  Holmby,  and  took  the  King  into  their 
hands;  and  at  length  brought  him  to  St.  James's,  when 
an  order  was  passed  for  bringing  him  to  trial :  accord* 
ingly,  a  new  court  was  erected,  called  the  high  court  of 
justice.  The  president  was  John  Bradshaw,  serjeant  at 
law.  The  King  being  several  times  brought  before  the 
court,  and  disowning  its  authority,  sentence  was  pro 
nounced  against  him  on  the  27th  of  January,  1649  ;  and 
on  the  30th  of  the  same  month  he  was  beheaded  on  a 
public  scaffold,  at  Whitehall,  in  the  49th  year  of  his  age. 
On  the  scaffold  he  declared  himself  a  Protestant,  and  de- 
nied his  having  any  ill  designs  on  his  people. 


HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND. 


337 


The  Commonwealth  of  England. — From  1649  to 
1658. 

The  Parliament  had  no  sooner  destroyed  the  King, 
than  they  declared  the  royal  power  dangerous,  and  voted 
the  House  of  Lords  useless.  They  next  appointed  forty 
members  of  the  executive  power,  under  the  title  of  *  The 
Council  of  State.} 

Cromwell  was  then  sent  into  Ireland  to  reduce  the 
rebels,  and  in  about  nine  months  made  great  progress 
towards  the  reduction  of  that  island ;  but  the  Scots  revol- 
ting, and  calling  over  the  young  King,  the  Parliament 
sent  for  Cromwell  in  haste,  and  a  battle  was  fought  on 
the  3d  of  September,  1650,  at  Worcester,  in  which  Crom- 
well defeated  the  King's  army.  His  majesty  on  this  fled 
to  the  house  of  William  Peiiderel,  at  Boscobel,  on  the 
confines  of  Staffordshire,  where  he  lodged  at  night  in  a 
garret,  and  in  the  day  sat  in  a  large  oak  in  an  adjacent 
wood  :  he  at  length  escaped  to  Normandy. 
.  Cromwell  afterwards  defeated  the  Scots  at  Dunbar, 
took  Edinburgh  Castte,  and  entirely  reduced  that  king- 
dom. 

Cromwell,  1635,  set  up  a  council  of  state,  who  some 
time  after  gave  him  the  title  of  *  The  Lord  Protector  of 
lEngland." 

The  Commonwealth  was  long  at  war  with  the  Dutch, 
and  in  several  battles  at  sea  the  English  distinguished 
themselves  by  an  amazing  intrepidity, ;  in  one  of  whiclt 
the  English,  with  106  ships,  beat  the  Dutch,  who  had 
120. 

Cromwell  made  peace  with  the  Dutch,  obtained  Dun- 
kirk, took:  Jamaica,  and,  in  short,  made  his  name  univer- 
sally formidable. 

At  length  Cromwell  died  on  the  3d  of  September,  1658, 
about  which  time  there  was  one  of  the  most  violent  tem- 
pests ever  known  in  England. 

Soon  after  the  protector's  death,  the  people  turned  their 
thoughts  to  the  restoration  of  the  royal  authority  and  fa- 
mily, which  was  brought  about  by  General  Monk ;  and 
King  Charles  II.  was  invited  to  England,  and  proclaim- 
ed King,  May,  8,  1660.    On  the  28th  he  landed  at  Do- 

28 


338 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE, 


ver,  and  on  the  29th  made  his  public  entry  through 
London  on  horseback,  attended  by  his  two  brothers, 
James,  Duke  of  York,  and  Henry,  Duke  of  Gloucester. 

Charles  II. — Nominally  from  1649,  actually  from  1660 
to  168$. 

Charles  II.  was  crowned  on  the  23d  of  April,  1661. 
One  of  the  first  laws  passed  in  his  reign  was  an  act  of 
indemnity,  excepting  those  personally  concerned  in  the 
death  of  his  father,  and  a  few  others. 

King  Charles  was  married  to  Catharina,  Infanta  of 
Portugal;  and,  in  1664,  entered  into  a  war  with  the 
Dutch,  in  which  several  naval  battles  were  fought,  and, 
in  particular,  a  very  bloody  one  on  the  3d  of  June,  1665  ; 
when  Opdam,  the  Dutch  admiral,  lost  his  life,  together 
with  his  ship,  and  19  others  taken,  burnt,  or  sunk  :  but 
in  1667,  the  Dutch  sailed  up  the  Meffway,  and  burnt 
many  of  our  ships  at  Chatham  ;  soon  after  which  a 
peace  was  concluded. 

In  167S,  one  Titus  Oates  went  into  Spain,  and  having 
informed  himself  of  a  plot  formed  by  the  Pope,  the  King 
of  France,  the  Duke  of  York,  and  others,  applied  to  Sir 
Edmundbury  Godfrey,  a  justice  of  peace  in  Westminster, 
and  represented  to  him,  that  they  had  formed  a  design 
to  murder  the  King,  and  subvert  the  Protestant  religion 
in  England.  On  this,  Sir  Edmundbury  Godfrey  took 
his  deposition  ;  but  was  soon  after  murdered,  and  his  body 
found  in  a  ditch.  Several  persons  were  tried  and  hanged 
for  that  murder. 

The  Presbyterians  were  then  charged  with  a  plot  by 
the  Papists  ;  and,  for  this  pretended  conspiracy,  the  brave 
Lord  Russell,  Colonel  Sidney,  and  the  Earl  of  Essex, 
lost  their  lives. 

In  1667,  Lord  Chancellor  Hyde,  whose  daughter  had 
been  married  to  the  Duke  of  York,  was  disgraced,  and 
went  to  France,  where  he  wrote  the  History  of  the  Re- 
bellion. Though  the  Duke  of  York  was  a  Papist,  yet 
that  was  made  so  great  a  secret,  that  the  people  were 
fined  for  mentioning  it,  The  King  suffered  Louis  XIV. 
to  be  supplied  with  timber  for  building  ships;  and  selling 


HISTORY  Ot  ENGLAND. 


339 


Dunkirk,  which  Cromwell  had  procured  for  England, 
employed  the  purchase  money  in  his  pleasures. 

King  Charles  died  on  the  6th  of  February,  1685,  in 
the  55th  year  of  his  age,  and  was  buried  in  Westminster 
Abbey. 

In  this  reign  Milton  wrote  his  Paradise  Lost,  and 
Butler  his  Hudibras;  Waller,  Cowley,  Dryden,  and 
Roscommon  also  did  honour  to  the  nation  by  their 
writings. 

In  1665,  a  plague  carried  off  in  London  70  or  80,000 
persons.  In  1666,  was  the  dreadful  fire,  which  burnt 
above  13,000  houses,  and  90  churches.  In  this  reign  a 
person  named  Blood,  stole  the  crown,  sceptre,  and  regalia, 
out  of  the  Tower,  but  was  discovered  and  taken.  In 
1683,  there  was  so  severe  a  frost,  from  the  middle  of 
November  to  the  5th  of  February,  that  hackney  coaches 
plied  on  the  Thames. 


James  U.~From  1685  to  1688. 

James,  Duke  of  York,  was  proclaimed  King  on  the 
6th  of  February,  1685.  In  the  privy  council  he  pro- 
mised to  preserve  the  government  of  church  and  state  ; 
yet  he  went  publicly  to  mass  two  days  after  his  accession. 

The  coronation  of  the  King  and  Queen  was  on  the 
3d  of  April.  Titus  Oates,  the  discoverer  of  the  Popish 
plot  in  the  late  reign,  was  now  punished  with  severity. 
Mr.  Dangerfield,  and  Mr.  Richard  Baxter,  also  received 
severe  treatment :  the  former  for  discovering  a  pretended 
plot,  and  the  latter  for  reflecting  on  the  prelates. 

The  Duke  of  Monmouth  landed  at  Lyme,  in  Dorset- 
shire, with  only  83  followers,  on  the  11th  of  June,  and 
published  a  declaration :  That  his  sole  motive  for  taking 
arms  was  to  maintain  the  Protestant  religion,  and  to  de- 
liver the  nation  from  the  usurpation  and  tyranny  of 
James,  Duke  of  York,  and  that  his  mother  was  actually 
married  to  King  Charles  II. ,  but  he  was  taken  prisoner, 
arid  beheaded  on  Tower  Hill,  July  15,  1685. 

Those  who  had  espoused  his  cause,  were,  now  but- 
chered by  military  execution,  under  General  Kirk,  or 
Judge  JefTeries, 


340 


VOUftG  man's  book  of  knowledge. 


In  short,  about  600  persons  were  hanged,  and  the 
steeples,  tower  gates,  aifd  roads,  were  stuck  with  their 
heads  and  limbs. 

Several  arbitrary  and  scandalous  proceedings  were 
carried  on  against  the  Protestants  at  the  instance  of  the 
King. 

Meanwhile,  the  Queen  was  said  to  be  delivered  of  a 
prince*  on  the  10th  of  June,  1668,  though  such  measures 
were  taken,  as  raised  a  suspicion  of  its  being  a  design  to 
impose  an  heir  upon  the  kingdom.  This  event  alienated 
the  minds  of  the  princesses  Mary  and  Anne,  the  King's 
own  undisputed  children*  by  Lady  Anne  Hyde. 

The  Prince  of  Orange,  stadtholder  of  the  United  Pro- 
vinceSj  had  married  Mary,  King  James's  eldest  daughter, 
and  was  himself  the  son  of  that  King's  eldest  sister;  he 
naturally  attracted  the  regard  of  the  people  of  England, 
who  applied  to  him  for  deliverance.  He  landed  at  Tor- 
bay,  on  the  4th  of  November,  1668,  and  was  joyfully 
received  by  the  people. 

The  King's  commissioners  treated  with  the  Prince  of 
Orange.  The  prince  made  very  moderate  proposals,  but 
James  chose  to  desert  his  kingdom  rather  than  retract 
what  he  had  done  in  favour  of  the  Popish  religion  ;  and 
being  disguised,  embarked  in  a  vessel,  near  Feversham, 
in  Kent,  where  he  was  stopped  by  some  fishermen  and 
brought  back  to  London ;  but  he  fled  a  second  time,  and 
escaped  into  France,  December,  1688.  He  spent  the 
last  twelve  years  of  his  life  at  St.  Germain's,  where 
Louis  XIV.  allowed  him  a  pension  of  50,000/.  sterling 
per  annum,  and  his  daughter  Mary  4,000Z.  which  he 
received  secretly.  At  length,  he  died  there  in  170 1,  in 
the  68th  year  of  his  age. 

William  III.— Frew  1688  to  1702. 

Upon  King  James's  departure,  the  lords  and  commons 
at  length  agreed  that  he  had  abdicated  the  throne.  Then 
the  Princess  Mary  and  the  Prince  of  Orange  were  pro- 
claimed King  and  Glueen,  on  the  13th  of  February, 
1689,  and  crowned  on  the  11th  of  April  following. 

An  attemot  was  made  to  secure  Scotland  for  King 


HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND. 


341 


James;  but  on  the  26th  of  May,  1689,  the  two  armies 
met  at  Killi cranky,  in  the  shire  of  Perth,  when  Lieu  ten- 
ant-General Mackey,  who  commanded  for  King  William, 
obtained  a  victory:  after  which  the  whole  island  of 
Great  Britain  submitted  to  King  William. 

In  Ireland,  Tyrconnel  had  disarmed  the  Protestants  in 
a  great  part  of  the  kingdom,  and  formed  an  army  of  Pa- 
pists, amounting  to  30,000  foot  and  8,000  horse,  while 
the  Protestants  in  the  north  took  up  arms  for  King  Wil- 
liam. Meanwhile,  James  made  his  public  entry  into 
Dublin,  and  headed  20,000  men,  and  was  twice  rein- 
forced by  the  French  with  5,000  men  each  time.  James's 
forces  were  often  defeated ;  and  at  length  William  arri- 
ving in  person,  he  gained  a  complete  victory  over  James 
at  the  battle  of  the  Boyne,  and  thereby  established  him- 
self on  the  throne  of  Ireland.  James  then  took  shipping 
for  France. 

Soon  after  the  battle  of  the  Boyne,  King  William  re- 
turned to  England  ;  but  another  battle  was  fought  June 
30,  1691,  at  Aughrim,  between  the  English,  commanded 
by  General  Ginkle,  and  the  Irish,  assisted  by  the  French  ; 
when  the  English  gained  a  complete  victory  ;  and  thus 
an  end  was  put  to  the  war  in  Ireland. 

About  this  time,  King  William  formed  a  grand  alliance 
against  Louis  XIV.  and  headed  the  allied  armies  in  se- 
veral battles ;  at  length  the  French  made  overtures  of 
peace,  and  the  treaty  was  concluded  at  Ryswick,  in  1697. 

Whilst  the  King  was  thus  engaged  abroad,  his  illus- 
trious Queen  died,  December  28,  1694,  and  was  greatly 
lamented. 

Several  conspiracies  were  formed  in  favour  of  James, 
during  King  William's  reign,  the  most  remarkable  of 
which  was  the  assassination  plot  for  murdering  the 
prince  in  his  coach ;  for  which  Sir  John  Fenwick  and 
others  were  executed. 

King  William  was  thrown  from  his  horse,  by  which 
his  collar-bone  was  dislocated,  and  he  died  on  the  8th  of 
March,  1702,  aged  51  years,  and  was  interred  in  Henry 
VIL's  chapel. 


28* 


342        young  man's  book  of  knowledge. 


Anne.— From  1702  to  1714. 

The  crown  devolved  to  the  Princess  Anne,  daughter  of 
James  II.  This  Princess  was  born  at  St.  James's,  Feb- 
ruary 16,  1665;  wras  married  to  George,  Prince  of  Den- 
mark, July  28,  1683 ;  and  was  crowned  April  23,  1702. 

War  was  declared  against  France  and  Spain,  on  the 
4th  of  May,  by  the  Queen,  the  Emperor,  and  the  States- 
General  ;  but  the  actions  were  so  numerous,  that  it  would 
be  impossible,  in  the  narrow  compass  we  are  here  con- 
fined to,  to  mention  particularly  every  engagement. 

In  1702,  Marlborough  led  to  the  field  the  army  of  the 
allies,  consisting  of  53,000  foot  and  2,700  horse.  He 
took,  the  first  campaign,  Venlo,  Ruremond,  Stephen- 
sweart,  and  Liege. 

On  August  2d,  1704,  Marlborough  gained  a  great 
victory  at  Blenheim,  in  which  the  French  had  12,000  men 
killed,  and  14,000  made  prisoners,  among  whom  was 
Marshal  Tallard,  seven  generals,  and  1,200  other  officers, 
and  near  600  squadrons  were  drowned  in  the  Danube. 

Sir  George  Rook  took  Gibraltar,  after  a  siege  of  two 
days,  on  July  4,  1704.  Next  year,  Marlborough,  with 
74,000  men,  defeated  the  French  and  Bavarians,  consist- 
ing of  75,960. 

The  same  year  the  brave  Earl  of  Peterborough,  took 
Barcelona ;  and  next  raised  the  siege  of  St.  Mattheo, 
and  with  1,200  men  obliged  7,000  to  fly,  took  Morviedro, 
and  seized  Valencia. 

On  May  12,  1706,  Marlborough,  with  59,180  men, 
attacked  the  French  and  Bavarians,  61,120  strong,  and, 
in  less  than  two  hours,  put  their  whole  army  to  flight. 
The  enemy  had  8,000  killed,  4,000  wounded,  and  6,000 
taken  prisoners. 

In  1708,  Marlborough  and  Prince  Eugene  defeated  the 
•whole  French  army  at  Oudenard.  The  French  had 
4,000  killed  and  wounded,  and  7,000  taken  prisoners ; 
while  the  confederates  had  only  820  men  killed.  The 
Duke  soon  after  took  Lisle,  relieved  Brussels,  and  obliged 
Ghent  to  surrender.  During  these  transactions,  Major- 
General  Stanhope,  with  3,000  men,  landed  at  Minorca, 


HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND. 


343 


and  the  whole  island  was  conquered  in  three  weeks,  with 
the  loss  of  only  40  men. 

In  1711,  the  Duke  took  Bouchain,  and  made  the  gar- 
rison prisoners  of  war ;  and  this  was  the  last  service  he 
performed  in  the  field,  who,  in  the  course  of  ten  cam- 
paigns, had  the  honour  of  receiving  ten  times  the  thanks 
of  both  houses  of  parliament ;  and  at  last,  on  the  change 
of  ministry,  dismissed  from  all  his  employments.  These 
wars  were  at  length  concluded  by  the  treaty  of  Utrecht, 
in  1713. 

The  animosities  of  parties,  it  is  thought,  shortened  the 
days  of  the  Queen,  who  died  at  Kensington,  Aug.  1, 1714, 
in  the  50th  year  of  her  age,  having  lost  her  royal  consort 
about  six  years.  She  was  privately  interred  in  Henry 
TIL'S  chapel. 

In  this  reign  the  kingdoms  of  England  and  Scotland 
were  united. 

George  I. — From  1714  to  1727. 

On  the  death  of  Queen  Anne,  the  privy  council  gave 
orders  that  the  Elector  of  Hanover  should  be  proclaimed 
King;  and  he  was  crowned  on  the  11th  of  October  fol- 
lowing. His  Majesty  immediately  made  several  changes 
in  the  ministry;  and  the  Duke  of  Marlborough  was  re- 
stored to  his  former  posts. 

Meanwhile,  the  Pretender  asserted  his  claim  to  the 
crown,  and  it  soon  appeared  that  James,  the  son  of  James 
Hd.  had  a  considerable  party  in  England.,  John  Ers- 
kine,  Earl  of  Mar,  with  several  other  noblemen  and  gen- 
tlemen, assembled  at  the  Brae  of  Mar ;  and  on  September 
16,  proclaimed  the  Pretender  King,  and  their  numbers 
soon  increased  to  12,000  men.  The  Earl  of  Derwent- 
water  and  Mr.  Forester  assembled  their  friends  in  Nor- 
thumberland, and  Forester  declared  the  Pretender  King 
at  Warkworth.  Meanwhile,  Lord  Viscount  Kenmure 
headed  some  noblemen  and  others  in  the  west  of  Scot- 
land, and  at  the  same  time  declared  the  Pretender  King 
at  Moffat,  in  Annandale.  Kenmure  joined  Forester  on 
the  borders  of  Scotland. 

At  length,  M'Intosh,  Kenmure,  and  Forester,  marched 
to  Preston  in  Lancashire ;  but  the  Generals  Willis  and 


344  young  man's  book  of  knowledge 

Carpenter,  with  nine  regiments  of  dragoons,  and  one  of 
foot,  surrounded  the  place;  when  Forester  submitted, 
and  delivered  up  all  his  men  prisoners  at  discretion. 

On  the  22d  of  December,  the  Pretender  landed  at  Pe- 
terhead, and  was  conducted  to  Fetterosse,  where  he  was 
proclaimed  King.  The  Duke  of  Argyle,  in  January, 
1716,  obliged  the  rebels  to  abandon  Perth ;  from  whence 
they  returned  to  Montrose,  where  the  Pretender  privately 
made  his  escape  to  France ;  upon  which  General  Gor- 
don led  them  into  the  mountains,  where  they  were  dis- 
persed. 

Of  the  great  numbers  who  were  sentenced  to  die  for 
this  rebellion,  none  were  executed  except  the  Lords  Der- 
wentwater  and  Kenmure,  and  a  small  number  of  the 
lower  rank. 

In  1718,  war  was  declared  against  Spain,  when  Sir 
George  Byng  was  sent  with  21  ships  into  the  Mediterra- 
nean; and  on  July  31,  he  defeated  the  Spanish  admiral, 
took  ten  men  of  war,  and  burnt  four,  and  even  made  the 
admiral  and  rear-admiral  prisoners.  After  which,  he 
destroyed  seven  Spanish  men  of  war,  and  great  quantities 
of  naval  stores  on  the  coast  of  Sicily  and  Biscay. 

In  December,  a  Spanish  squadron,  with  10,000  regular 
troops,  under  the  Duke  of  Ormond,  was  sent  to  invade 
England  ;  but  were  dispersed  by  a  violent  storm.  How- 
ever, the  Marquis  of  Tullybardine,  and  the  Earl  of  Sea- 
forth  and  Marischal,  with  307  Spanish  soldiers,  landed 
in  Scotland,  and  were  joined  by  2000  Highlanders :  but 
General  Wightman,  with  1200  men,  on  the  10th  of 
June,  entirely  defeated  them. 

Lord  Cobham  then  made  a  descent  upon  Spain,  and 
took  Vigo. 

:  In  1727,  his  Majesty  set  out  for  his  German  domi- 
nions, but  was  taken  ill  in  his  coach  on  the  road  to  Ha- 
nover, and  died  two  days  after  at  his  brother's  palace  at 
Osnaburgh,  on  the  11th  of  June,  in  the  68th  year  of  his 
age,  and  the  13th  of  his  reign,  and  was  interred  at  Ha- 
nover. 

King  George  I.  was  of  a  moderate  stature ;  his  fea- 
tures were  regular  and  manly,  and  his  countenance 
grave  and  majestic.  He  was  an  able  and  experienced 
general,  and  a  consummate  politician* 


HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND. 


345 


George  II.— From  1727  to  1760. 

As  his  late  Majesty  died  abroad,  his  death  was  not 
known  till  the  14th  of  June,  1727,  and  his  Majesty  King 
George  II.  was  the  next  morning  proclaimed  King ;  and 
he  with  his  Q,ueen  were  crowned  at  Westminster,  on  the 
11th  of  October. 

His  Majesty  found  the  nation  engaged  in  a  war  with 
the  Spaniards;  but  in  1729,  a  peace  was  concluded  at 
Seville  between  Great  Britain,  France,  and  Spain. 

On  October  29,  1739,  war  was  declared  by  England 
against  Spain  ;  and  on  November  22,  1740,  Admiral 
Vernon,  with  six  ships  took  Porto  Bello.  The  next  year 
he  was  sent  with  29  ships  of  the  line,  with  10,000  sol- 
diers, under  the  command  of  General  Wentworth,  to 
attack  Carthagena ;  but  though  he  destroyed  six  Spanish 
ships  of  the  line,  and  seven  galleons,  the  attempt  mis- 
carried, through  a  disagreement  between  the  Admiral 
and  the  General. 

Commodore  Anson  sailed  from  England  with  five  men 
of  war,  in  1740 ;  and  after  having  suffered  the  most 
dreadful  distresses,  surprised  and  took  Paita,  on  the  12th 
of  November,  1741,  and  having  plundered  and  burnt  the 
town,  and  seized  several  Spanish  ships,  he,  on  his  return, 
by  the  way  of  the  East  Indies,  took  the  Manilla  galleon, 
loaded  with  treasure.  He  arrived  in  England,  in  1744, 
with  the  riches  he  had  acquired  from  the  Spaniards, 
amounting  to  about.  400,000/. 

His  late  Majesty  George  the  1st  powerfully  supported 
the  Queen  of  Hungary's  succession  to  the  hereditary 
dominions  of  her  father,  the  Emperor  Charles  VI. ;  and 
at  length  Britain  and  France  under  the  name  of  auxilia- 
ries to  the  contending  parties,  became  principals  in  the 
war :  when  his  Britannic  Majesty  not  only  furnished 
16,000  British  troops,  but  in  person  headed  the  allied 
army  in  Germany,  accompanied  by  the  Duke  of  Cum- 
berland; and  a  battle  was  fought  at  Dettingen,  June  16, 
1743,  when  the  King  of  Great  Britain  had  the  glory  of 
the  field.  The  Duke  of  Cumberland  was  wounded  in 
the  action. 

In  1744,  war  was  declared  against  France ;  and  in 


346 


YOUNG  MAN'i  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE, 


1745,  the  people  of  New  England,  assisted  by  ten  men  of 
war,  under  Commodore  Warren,  took  Cape  Breton,  with 
the  loss  of  only  100  men ;  but  were  afterwards  obliged  to 
part  with  it  for  Madras, 

On  the  14th  of  July,  the  young  Pretender  sailed  for 
Scotland  in  a  small  frigate,  and  landed*  there  on  the  27th 
of  July.  He  soon  obtained  a  considerable  force,  and  pro- 
ceeding through  several  parts  of  Scotland,  had  his  father 
proclaimed  King,  while  he  himself  assumed  the  title  of 
Prince-Regent.  He  took  several  places,  and  gained 
some  advantages  over  the  King's  forces  sent  against  him ; 
but  at  length  the  Duke  of  Cumberland  went  to  Edin- 
burgh, and  took  the  command  of  the  army,  and  on  the 
15th  of  April  came  to  an  engagement  near  Culloden 
house,  and  obtained  a  complete  victory,  in  which  about 
1400  of  the  rebels  were  killed,  wounded,  and  taken  pri- 
soners, though  the  royal  army  had  only  60  men  killed, 
and  280  wounded.  The  Earl  of  Kilmarnock,  Lord  Bal- 
merino,  Lord  Lovet,  and  Mr.  RadclifTe,  brother  to  the  late 
Earl  of  Derwentwater,  were  afterwards  beheaded  on 
Tower-hill  for  this  rebellion. 

Hostilities  at  length  ceased  in  Flanders,  and  a  general 
peace  was  proclaimed  in  London,  February  2,  1749. 
The  French,  however,  soon  broke  the  truce  by  erecting 
forts  on  the  back  of  the  British  settlements  in  America  ; 
and  in  1754,  attempted  to  seize  Nova  Scotia:  these  de- 
predations brought  on  several  engagements,  which  were 
attended  with  various  successes. 

Meanwhile,  the  French  landed  17,000  men  in  Minorca, 
which  was  defended  by  General  Blackeney.  His  Ma- 
jesty declared  war  against  France  on  the  15th  of  May, 
1756,  and  sent  Admiral  Byng,  with  a  strong  fleet  to  the 
relief  of  Minorca ;  but  he  neglecting  to  fulfil  his  instruc- 
tions, the  place  was  lost,  and  was  tried  and  shot  at 
Portsmouth. 

During  these  transactions,  Colonel  Clive  distinguished 
himself  in  the  East  Indies ;  and  all  the  towns  and  fac- 
tories belonging  to  the  French  on  the  coast  of  Coroman- 
del,  except  only  Pondicherry,  were  in  a  few  years  taken 
by  the  British. 

In  1658,  the  Duke  of  Marlborough  landing  near  St. 
Maloes,  in  France,  burnt  many  ships,  with  a  great  quan- 


HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND. 


347 


tity  of  naval  stores.  Lieutenant-General  Bligh,  and 
Captain  (now  Lord)  Howe,  took  Cherburgh,  and  demo- 
lished its  fortifications.  Soon  after.  Captain  Marsh  took 
Senegal,  and  Commodore  Keppel  took  the  island  of 
Goree,  on  the  coast  of  Africa.  On  the  26th  of  July, 
Cape  Breton  was  again  taken  by  General  Amherst  and 
Admiral  Boscawen.  Soon  after,  Fort  Frontenac  sur- 
rendered to  Lieutenant-General  Bradstreet,  and  Fort  du 
Quesne  to  General  Forbes. 

On  May  1,  1759,  the  valuable  island  of  Guadaloupe 
surrendered  to  the  British,  and  the  same  month  Mariga* 
lante,  Santos  and  Deseada,  became  subject  to  Britain. 
And  the  same  year,  the  French  lost  Quebec,  the  capital 
of  Canada.  v 

In  1760,  Thurot,  landing  with  three  frigates  in  the 
Bay  of  Carrickfergus,  they  were  all  taken  by  Captain 
Elliot ;  and  on  September  8,  Montreal  and  all  Canada 
submitted  to  the  British.  But  after  these  glojrious  con- 
quests his  Majesty  King  George  II.  to  the  inexpressible 
grief  of  his  people,  died  at  Kensington,  on  the  25th  of 
October,  in  the  77th  year  of  his  age,  and  the  next  day 
George  III.  was  proclaimed  King. 


George  III— From  1760  to  1814. 

George  III.  who  was  the  eldest  son  of  Frederick, 
Prince  of  Wales,  succeeded  his  grandfather,  and  was 
proclaimed  on  the  26th  of  October,  1760.  He  was  born 
June  4,  1738. 

The  beginning  of  his  Majesty's  reign  was  accompanied 
with  great  events,  the  war  being  carried  on  with  success 
in  every  quarter  of  the  world. 

On  the  8th  of  September  his  Majesty  was  married  at 
the  Royal  Chapel,  at  St.  James's,  to  her  Serene  Highness 
the  Princess  Charlotte,  of  Mecklenburgh  Strelitz ;  and, 
on  the  22d  of  September,  their  Majesties  were  crowned 
in  the  Abbey  church  of  Westminster. 

In  1762,  war  was  declared  against  Spain.  This  year 
the  British  arms  were  triumphant  in  all  quarters  of  the 
globe.  The  heroes  were  the  Admirals  Rodney  and  Po- 
cock,  General  Monckton,  the  Earl  of  Albemarle,  and 

hers. 


348         young  man's  book  of  knowledge. 

These  successes  made  our  enemies  weary  of  the  war, 
in  consequence  of  which  a  peace  was  concluded  at  Fon- 
tainbleau,  in  February,  1762. 

For  some  few  years  after  the  peace,  the  history  of 
Great  Britain  is  confined  almost  wholly  to  domestic 
transactions.  In  1768,  Mr.  Wilkes,  though  an  outlaw, 
carried  his  election  for  Middlesex :  but  was  afterwards 
expelled  the  house  of  commons,  and  committed  to  the 
King's  Bench  prison ;  in  consequence  of  which  several 
riots  happened  in  St.  George's  Fields,  and  some  persons 
lost  their  lives.  In  1771,  his  imprisonment  expired, 
when  he  was  chosen  one  of  the  sheriffs  for  London, 
elected  an  alderman,  afterwards  lord  mayor,  and  at  last 
chamberlain  of  the  city. 

...  We  must  pass  over  the  other  domestic  disturbances  of 
this  year,  in  order  to  record  those  of  a  more  serious  nature 
in  North  America,  where,  in  1771,  a  rebellion  broke  out, 
occasioned  by  new  duties  being  laid  on  paper,  glass,  tea, 
and  other  articles.  The  mother  country  repealed  all 
these  duties,  except  that  on  tea ;  and  when  some  ships 
arrived  at  Boston,  laden  with  that  article,  the  Bostonians 
emptied  their  cargoes  into  the  sea.  These  proceedings 
enraging  the  English  government,  an  act  was  passed 
here  for  shutting  up  the  port  of  Boston  ;  and  the  Ameri- 
cans, on  their  side,  in  consequence,  declared  themselves 
independent  of  Great  Britain. 

In  1775,  the  British  and  American  troops  came  to 
blows  at  Concord,  in  New  England ;  and  several  skir- 
mishes afterwards  ensued,  in  which  many  were  killed  on 
both  sides,  without  producing  any  thing  decisive.  The 
Americans  began  to  take  up  arms  in  every  quarter,  and 
they  assumed  the  title  of  u  The  United  States  of  Ame- 
rica." They  soon  after  took  the  garrisons  of  Ticonde- 
roga  and  Crown  Point,  where  they  found  great  quantities 
of  military  stores. 

In  1778,  the  British  government  offered  terms,  which 
the  Americans  disdained.  The  war  was,  therefore,  car- 
ried on  with  mutual  animosity,  and  the  Americans  lost 
all  Georgia.  In  the  course  of  this  year,  the  French  en- 
tered into  an  alliance  with  the  Thirteen  United  States ; 
and  soon  after,  Admiral  Keppel  engaged  the  French 
fleet,  commanded  by  Count  D'Orvilliers.    Neither  side 


HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND 


349 


got  the  victory  in  this  action,  and  the  French  were  suf- 
fered to  get  off,  owing  to  the  misunderstanding  between 
Admirals  Keppel  and  Palliser. 

In  1779,  the  Spaniards,  joined  by  the  French  took 
New  Orleans  on  the  Mississippi,  and  laid  siege  to  Gib- 
raltar. 

The  year  1780  will  be  ever  memorable  for  one  of  the 
most  alarming  riots  that  ever  happened  in  the  city  of 
London.  The  King's  Bench  prison,  New  Bridewell,  the 
Fleet  prison,  were  all  burnt,  and  the  city  represented  a 
town  taken  by  storm,  by  the  hands  of  unmerciful  ene- 
mies. At  length,  troops  poured  into  London  from  all 
quarters,  when  tranquility  was  restored ;  no  small  num- 
ber of  the  rioters  were  shot,  some  burnt  in  the  flames  they 
themselves  had  kindled,  and  many  were  afterwards  tried 
and  executed. 

In  April,  1782,  Admiral  Rodney  came  up  with  the 
French  fleet,  when  an  engagement  took  place,  and  the 
Ville  de  Paris,  a  ship  of  110  guns,  was  taken,  with  two 
of  74,  and  one  of  64  guns.  A  74  gun  ship  blew  up  by 
accident,  soon  after  she  was  in  our  possession,  and 
another  of  74  sunk  during  the  engagement.  A  few  days 
after,  two  more  of  the  same  fleet,  of  64  guns,  were  cap- 
tured. By  this  victory  the  design  against  Jamaica  was 
frustrated,  and  Admiral  Rodney,  on  his  return,  was 
created  a  peer.  In  September  the  siege  of  Gibraltar  ended 
in  disappointment,  and  the  destruction  of  almost  all  the 
ships  and  most  of  the  assailants  in  them. 

In  1783,  a  period  was  put  to  this  most  calamitous  war, 
in  which  Great  Britain  lost  the  best  part  of  her  American 
colonies,  besides  many  thousand  valuable  lives,  and 
squandered  nearly  150  millions  of  money. 

From  this  period  to  the  year  1787,  we  have  no  great 
political  event  to  record,  when  the  Spaniards  seizing  an 
English  vessel  at  Nootka  Sound,  occasioned  a  rupture, 
and  both  nations  made  great  naval  preparations;  but  the 
matter  was  at  last  ended  by  a  kind  of  treat}'* 

The  naval  armament  was  hardly  dismissed,  when  the 
Empress  of  Russia  making  heavy  claims  on  the  Turks, 
took  from  them  Oczakow,  Ismael,  &c.  which  alarmed 
the  British  court,  who  fitted  out  a  large  fleet ;  but  soon 

29 


S5Q  young  man's  book  of  knowledge, 

consented  to  disarm  it,  and  leave  the  Russians  in  posses- 
sion of  their  conquests. 

Soon  after  this,  his  Majesty  was  seized  with  a  violent 
disorder,  which  was  at  first  thought  to  be  a  fever,  and 
continued  in  that  state  for  several  days,  with  very  little 
hopes  of  recovery.  The  parliament  met  in  December, 
and  violent  debates  passed  between  the  different  parties, 
in  order  to  settle  a  regency  during  his  Majesty's  indispo- 
sition. A  bill  passed  the  house  of  commons  for  appoint- 
ing the  Prince  of  Wales  Regent,  and  it  was  nearly  in  its 
last  stage  in  the  house  of  lords,  when  his  Majesty  sent  a 
message  to  the  house,  acquainting  them  of  his  recovery, 
and  his  ability  to  attend  to  the  public  concerns  of  the 
nation.  The  illuminations  on  this  joyful  event  were 
such  as  had  never  been  equalled  before  in  this,  or  perhaps 
any  city  in  the  world.  All  ranks  and  orders,  from  the 
peer  to  the  humblest  mechanic,  carried  their  invention 
and  abilities  to  the  utmost  stretch. 

The  23d  of  April,  1789,  was  a  day  of  general  thanks- 
giving. His  Majesty  went  in  state  to  St.  Paul's  cathe- 
dral, preceded  by  both  houses  of  parliament. 

A  remarkable  revolution  happened  in  France,  in  July, 
1789.  The  King  was  deprived  of  his  authority,  the 
Bastile  was  destroyed,  all  nobility  abolished,  and  the 
revenues  of  the  clergy  taken  from  them. 

In  1790,  disgraceful  riots  and  outrages  took  place  at 
Birmingham,  occasioned  by  a  jealousy  arising  in  those 
of  the  established  church  against  the  dissenters. 

In  1792,  a  bill  passed  the  house  of  commons  for  the 
gradual  abolition  of  the  slave  trade,  which  was  the  first 
step  towards  putting  a  period  to  that  horrid  traffic ;  and 
in  1 807,  another  bill  passed  the  house  for  finally  abolish- 
ing that  trade. 

A  proclamation  was  issued  against  seditious  writings, 
which  caused  numerous  meetings  and  addresses,  testify- 
ing the  loyalty  of  the  people. 

In  the  East  Indies,  a  war  was  carried  on  against  Tip- 
poo  Saib,  which  was  successfully  terminated  by  Lord 
Cornwallis,  and  the  two  sons  of  Tippoo  were  given  as 
hostages  for  the  performance  of  the  conditions  of  peace. 

The  troubles  still  continuing  in  France,  all  the  foreign 
ambassadors  quitted  that  country.    The  National  Cou 


HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND. 


351 


vention  decreed,  that  France  is  a  Republic;  and  they 
tried  and  condemned  their  King,  who  suffered  death  by 
the  guillotine,  January  21,  1793;  the  Queen  also  suf- 
fered on  the  6th  of  October  following.  They  declared 
war  against  England,  Holland,  &c.  and  their  minister 
quitted  England. 

About  this  time,  Lord  Hood,  took  possession  of  Toulon, 
by  consent  of  the  inhabitants ;  but  not  having  sufficient 
force,  the  Republicans  soon  obliged  him  to  evacuate  it ; 
but  he  took  away  and  destroyed  great  part  of  their  fleet. 
The  Duke  of  York  attacked  Dunkirk,  but  was  soon 
obliged  to  raise  the  siege. 

In  1794,  several  persons  were  committed  to  the  Tower 
on  suspicion  of  high  treason,  who  were  afterwards  tried 
and  acquitted.  At  this  time  the  Dutch,  through  fear, 
began  to  treat  with  France  for  peace ;  the  Stadtholder 
fled  to  England  with  his  family;  and  the  Dutch  formed 
an  alliance  with  the  French,  and  changed  the  form  of 
their  republic.  Spain  next  made  peace  with  France. 
Both  these  countries  were  now  exposed  to  hostilities  from 
England  ;  and  in  consequence  lost  several  of  their  colo- 
nies, and  most  of  their  ships. 

Various  disturbances  broke  out  in  this  kingdom  among 
the  poor,  in  the  year  1795,  on  account  of  the  dearness  of 
bread.  The  King  was  insulted  in  going  to  the  parlia- 
ment house,  and  something  like  a  bullet  discharged  at 
his  coach. 

In  1796,  Lord  Malmsbury  was  sent  to  negociate  a 
peace  with  France,  but  without  effect. 

The  next  year  an  alarming  mutiny  broke  out  in  the 
navy,  which  was  quelled,  and  some  of  the  offenders  pu- 
nished. The  negociation  was  again  renewed,  and  Lord 
Malmsbury  sent  to  Lisle,  but  with  no  better  success. 

A  very  serious  rebellion  broke  out  in  Ireland,  in  1798, 
in  which  it  is  said  that  25,000  human  beings  lost  their 
lives,  some  of  them  of  high  consideration.  The  French 
landed  some  troops  in  that  country,  who  were  taken  pri- 
soners. They  afterwards  made  another  attempt,  but 
their  ships  were  taken  by  Sir  John  Warren. 

The  French  sent  an  expedition,  with  40,000  troops  to 
Egypt,  and  took  Malta  in  their  passage ;  they  effected  a 


*    352  young  man's  book  of  knowledge. 

landing  in  Egypt,  but  the  English  attacked  their  ships 
in  Aboukir  Bay,  and  took  all  but  two,  which  fled. 

Troops  with  ships,  were  sent  from  Russia  to  assist  the 
English  in  an  expedition  to  Holland,  with  a  view  of 
driving  the  French  from  that  country :  this  object  en- 
tirely failed ;  but  they  succeeded  in  bringing  away  the 
Dutch  fleet. 

An  expedition  was  sent  to  Egypt,  under  General 
Abefcrombie,  who  made  good  his  landing,  and  defeated 
the  French ;  but  being  wounded  in  the  first  battle,  he 
died  soon  after.  The  French  were  sent  home  prisoners 
of  war. 

On  the  1st  of  January,  1801,  the  union  of  England 
and  Ireland  took  place.  Malta  next  surrendered  to  the 
English,  in  consequence  of  which  the  Emperor  of  Russia 
withdrew  from  his  alliance  with  Great  Britain,  and 
formed  a  confederacy  with  the  northern  powers,  about 
the  rights  of  neutral  ships  ;  the  English  disputed  it,  and 
Lord  Nelson  gained  a  complete  victory  over  the  Danes 
at  Copenhagen. 

The  English  were  now  left  to  contend  with  the  French 
alone,  who  threatened  them  with  an  invasion,  and  many 
gun-boats  were  prepared.  Lord  Nelson  was  sent  to  at- 
tack them,  which  he  did  after  suffering  great  loss,  and 
without  success.  Soon  after,  a  new  administration  was 
formed,  who  immediately  concluded  a  peace. 

This  peace,  which  is  now  commonly  termed  the  peace 
of  Amiens,  was  signed  in  that  city  on  the  27th  March, 
1802;  between  the  French  republic,  the  King  of  Spain, 
and  the  Batavian  republic,  on  the  one  part ;  and  the  King 
of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland  on  the  other.  In  general, 
the  terms  were  not  considered  to  be  such  as  this  country 
ought  to  consider  an  equivalent  for  all  the  blood  and 
treasure  that  she  had  expended  during  a  twenty  years 
state  of  hostility  ;  but  the  subjects  of  Great  Britain  were 
become  wearied  of  a  state  of  warfare,  and  despairing  of 
being  able  to  subdue  the  domineering  conduct  of  the 
ruler  of  France,  they  were  not  disposed  to  scrutinize  very 
rigorously  the  terms  on  which  it  had  been  concluded. 
Great  Britain  ceded  almost  all  its  conquests  during  the 
war,  except  Ceylon  and  Trinidad.  Malta  was  to  be 
restored  to  the  order  of  St.  John  of  Jerusalem  ;  and  at  a 


HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND. 


353 


stipulated  period  was,  consequently,  to  be  given  up  by 
the  English  who  then  garrisoned  it,  and  their  refusal  to 
fulfil  this  part  of  the  treaty,  became  the  ostensible  pretext 
for  the  renewal  of  hostilities  between  France  and  Eng- 
land. Some  indignities  offered  to  Lord  Whitworth,  the 
British  minister,  by  the  first  consul  of  France,  who. 
thought  proper  to  affirm,  that  t{  England,  single-handed, 
could  not  contend  with  France,7'  was  considered  in  the 
light  of  insult  and  defiance,  and  it  determined  the  British 
minister  not  to  give  up  Malta.  War  being  resolved  on, 
both  sides  adopted  martial  operations  with  great  promp- 
titude and  vigour.  Bonaparte  threatened  the  invasion  of 
England,  and  gun-boats  were  prepared  in  great  abun- 
dance, and  collected  at  Boulogne  and  other  of  the  French 
ports,  which  for  some  time  kept  England  in  an  unexam- 
pled state  of  alarm  and  consternation,  during  the  whole 
of  the  year  1803;  but  after  reiterated  experiments  on  the 
part  of  France,  to  navigate  them  so  as  to  screen  them 
from  the  vengeance  of  the  British  navy,  the  object  was 
abandoned  and  the  terror  that  had  been  excited  gradually 
subsided. 

In  1804,  Mr.  Pitt  who  had  resigned  the  helm  of  af- 
fairs to  Mr.  Addington,  in  order  that  the  peace  of  Amiens 
might  take  place,  resumed  his  station ;  but  from  this 
time  such  was  the  unfortunate  nature  of  his  administra- 
tion, that  he  may  be  said  to  have  been  placed  under  the 
influence  of  an  evil  angel,  and  though  he  continued  at 
his  post  for  about  two  years,  he  appeared  no  longer  the 
same  man,  all  his  energies  were  paralyzed ;  confidence 
forsook  him ;  his  health  declined ;  and  on  the  23d  of 
January,  1806,  he  died,  in  the  47th  year  of  his  age. 

In  the  course  of  the  year  1805,  the  famous  battle  of 
Trafalgar  took  place,  probably  the  most  renowned  in  the 
whole  annals  of  British  naval  glory.  On  the  19th  of 
October,  the  combined  fleets  of  France  and  Spain, 
amounting  to  33  sail  of  the  line,  of  which  18  were 
French  and  15  Spanish,  left  the  harbour  of  Cadiz,  steer- 
ing towards  the  straits  of  Gibraltar.  Lord  Nelson  fol- 
lowed them  with  the  British  fleet  of  27  ships  of  the  line, 
and  on  the  21st  came  up  with  them  off  Cape  Trafalgar. 
The  enemy,  on  his  approach,  drew  up  in  the  form  of  a 
crescent,  and  waited  for  the  English  fleet,  which  bore 


354  young  man's  book  of  knowledge. 


down  in  a  double  column,  the  gallant  commander's  last 
signal  being  u  England  expects  every  man  to  do  his  du- 
ty." Nobly  indeed  was  it  performed ;  the  enemy's  line 
was  broken :  a  close  action  ensued,  which,  in  about  four 
hours  terminated  in  the  capture  of  nineteen  sail  of  the 
combined  fleet,  with  the  commander  in  chief  Villeneuve, 
and  two  Spanish  Admirals  J  But  unparalleled  as  this 
was  in  the  annals  of  British  victory,  it  was  purchased  at 
an  immense  expense;  we  lost  1587  men  in  killed  or 
wounded,  among  whom  the  country  had  to  deplore  that 
of  the  gallant  commander,  who  received  a  mortal  wound 
by  a  musket-shot  from  the  ship  with  which  he  was 
closely  engaged,  and  died  at  the  moment  of  declared 
vic'orv.  By  this  battle  of  Trafalgar,  however,  a  mortal 
blow  was  given  to  the  combined  navies  from  which  they 
nevet  ;ecovered  during  the  war,  and  which  left  the  British 
flag  complete  master  of  the  sea. 

On  the  decease  of  Mr.  Pitt,  which  took  place  a  few 
months  after  the  victory  of  Trafalgar,  a  new  administra- 
tion was  formed.  Lord  Grenville  was  made  first  Lord  of 
the  Treasury,  and  Mr.  Fox,  Secretary  of  State  for  Fo- 
reign Affairs.  This  administration  proved  but  short- 
lived, owing  to  the  death  of  Mr.  Fox,  who  did  not  sur- 
vive the  year ;  but  it  is  nevertheless  memorable  for  having 
put  a  termination  to  that  infernal  traffic,  the  slave  trade. 
The  year  1806  was  signalised  also  by  the  impeachment 
of  Lord  Melville,  by  a  committee  of  the  House  of  Com- 
mons. He  was  tried  in  Westminster  Hall,  but  acquitted 
by  the  Peers,  the  number  of  whom  that  voted  was  158. 
An  attempt  was  also  made  during  Lord  Grenville's  ad- 
ministration, to  grant  emancipation  to  the  Irish  Catholics; 
but  his  Majesty  having  been  persuaded  that  to  remove 
their  disabilities  was  contrary  to  his  coronation  oath,  he 
dissolved  the  parliament,  and  chose  a  new  ministry,  by 
which  means  the  bill  was  got  rid  of. 

The  great  and  avowed  object  of  France  at  this  time, 
was  the  ruin  of  the  commerce  of  England,  and  subverting 
her  naval  superiority ;  and  the  undiguised  manner  in 
which  this  was  acknowledged,  determined  the  British 
ministry  to  counteract  it  by  every  means  in  their  power. 
On  the  continent  of-  Europe  Bonaparte  reigned  without 
control.    Spain,  Austria,  the  states  of  Germany,  and 


HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND. 


Prussia  were  his  vassals.  At  Berlin  he  issued  a  decree, 
declaring-  the  whole  of  Great  Britain  in  a  state  of  block- 
ade. This  gave  rise  to  the  Orders  in  Council,  by  which 
the  country  was  so  strongly  agitated  for  several  years ; 
but  the  most  painful  circumstance  attending  them  was 
the  attack  upon  Copenhagen,  which  was  made  by  a 
powerful  expedition  that  this  country  fitted  out,  in  Au- 
gust 1807,  consisting  of  an  army  of  20,000  men,  and  a 
fleet  of  27  sail  of  the  line,  besides  smaller  vessels.  Ad- 
miral Lord  Gambier  was  entrusted  with  the  command  of 
this  expedition  ;  the  object  of  which  was  to  demand  the 
Danish  fleet  to  be  given  up  to  Great  Britain,  to  prevent 
its  falling  into  the  hands  of  France ;  and  as  the  Prince 
Regent  of  Denmark  declined  to  comply  with  the  British 
demand,  a  tremenduous  fire  was  opened  upon  Copenhagen, 
by  the  bomb-vessels  and  batteries  which  the  English  had 
constructed,  and  on  the  2d  September  a  general  confla 
gration  ensued.  The  flames  were  kept  up  in  different 
places  till  the  evening  of  the  5th,  when  a  considerable 
part  of  the  city  being  consumed,  and  the  remainder 
threatened  with  destruction,  the  city  capitulated;  the 
ships  were  given  up  to  the  admiral,  viz.  18  of  the  line, 
and  15  frigates,  besides  brigs  and  gun-boats, 

The  affairs  of  Spain  began  at  this  time  to  assume  pe- 
culiar interest  with  the  people  of  England.  Though  in 
a  state  of  complete  vassalage  to  France,  Buonaparte 
marched  an  army  in  the  month  of  March,  1808,  into  the 
heart  of  Spain,  and  by  a  dexterous  stratagem  procured 
thg,  abdication  of  the  royal  family,  whom  he  sent  into 
exile,  and  placed  his  own  brother  Joseph  upon  the  throne 
of  Madrid.  In  this  sad  conjuncture  of  their  affairs,  the 
Spanish  patriots  who  had  flown  to  arms  to  repel  the  un- 
principled aggressions  of  France,  applied  to  Great  Britain 
for  assistance,  and  troops  were  dispatched  both  to  Portu- 
gal and  Spain  to  aid  the  spirit  of  resistance  which  had 
so  nobly  manifested  itself,  Sir  Arthur  Wellesley,  (now 
the  Duke  of  Wellington)  commanded  the  British  forces 
in  Portugal,  and  defeated  General  Junot,  after  a  severe 
contest  whteh  took  place  at  Vimeria  on  the  21st  of 
August ;  on  this  occasion  the  French  lost  thirteen  pieces 
of  cannon,  and  3000  men  in  killed,  wounded,  and  prison- 
ers.   Sir  John  Moore  also  received  orders  to  enter  Spain 


356  young  man's  book  of  knowledge. 

in  aid  of  the  patriots,  and  landing"  his  troops  at  Corunna, 
he  advanced  to  Salamanca  in  the  month  of  November, 
but  not  meeting  with  that  cordial  support  from  the  Spa- 
niards which  he  was  given  to  expect,  and  the  French 
forces  being  powerfully  augmented,  the  gallant  general, 
after  manoeuvring  some  time  and  exerting  himself  in  vain 
to  rouse  the  Spaniards  to  action,  was  compelled  to  retreat 
to  Corunna,  where  being  closely  pressed  by  Marshal 
Soult,  and  unable  to  reimbark  his  troops,  he  prepared  to 
make  an  attack  upon  the  French  army.  As  this  brave 
officer  was  in  the  act  of  ordering  up  a  detachment  of  his 
men  to  succor  that  part  of  the  army  which,  was  engaged, 
he  received  a  mortal  wound  from  a  cannon  ball,  and  thus 
fell  one  of  the  ablest  generals  that  our  country  could 
boast ;  a  man,  who  both  in  his  professional  and  private 
character  had  acquired  the  admiration  and  esteem  of  all 
that  knew  him. 

The  British  parliament  assembled  on  the  19th  January, 
1809,  and  early  in  the  session,  a  most  extraordinary  in- 
terest was  excited  in  the  country,  insomuch  that  for  a 
time  it  took  place  of  every  other  topic.  Colonel  Wardle 
having  adverted  to  a  system  of  corruption  which  he  said 
had  long  prevailed  in  the  military  department,  made  a 
most  pointed  attack  upon  the  Duke  of  York,  who  filled 
the  office  of  commander-in-chief,  charging  him  with 
having  suffered  himself  to  be  swayed  by  a  kept  mistress, 
whose  name  was  Mary  Anne  Clarke,  and  who  had  car- 
ried on  a  traffic  in  commissions ;  affirming  that  Mrs. 
Clarke  possessed  the  power  of  military  promotion  ;  that 
she  received  pecuniary  consideration ;  and  that  the  Duke 
of  York  participated  in  the  benefit  arising  from  such 
consideration.  The  members  of  administration  and  crown 
lawyers  took  fire  at  these  serious  charges  against  one  of 
the  royal  family,  and  not  supposing  it  probable  that  such 
charges  could  be  made  good,  in  an  evil  hour  they  chal. 
lenged  Colonel  Wardle  to  the  proof!  During  the  pro- 
ceedings in  this  remarkable  case,  which  occupied  the 
greatest  part  of  the  months  of  February  and  March, 
1809,  and  w7hich  drew  fuller  houses  than  were  almost 
ever  known  ;  long  and  minute  examinations  were  carried 
on,  of  persons  of  both  sexes ;  and  disclosures  made  which 
might  well  astonish  the  country.    The  result  was,  that 


MlS'fORY  OF  ENGLAND. 


35? 


the  Duke  of  York,  finding  the  sense  of  the  independent 
part  of  the  country  decidedly  against  him,  thought  it  ex- 
pedient  to  resign  his  office  of  commander-in-chief,  and 
thus  terminate  all  further  discussion. 

An  expedition  was  fitted  out  by  the  British  Ministry 
during  this  summer,  which  was  long  the  object  of  na- 
tional expectation.  About  the  beginning  of  May,  pre- 
parations were  made  for  fitting  out  the  greatest  armament 
that  for  a  long  period  had  issued  from  the  ports  of  this 
island.  Towards  the  end  of  July,  an  army  of  40,000 
men  was  collected,  to  be  assisted  by  a  fleet  of  39  sail  of 
the  line,  and  36  frigates,  besides  gun-boats,  bomb-vessels, 
and  small  craft.  The  object  of  this  expedition  was  to  gain 
possession  of  the  islands  on  the  Dutch  coast,  and  destroy 
the  French  ships  of  war,  then  lying  in  the  river  Scheldt. 
This  formidable  armament  sailed  on  the  28th  of  July, 
and  on  the  1st  of  August  invaded  Flushing.  A  dreadful 
cannonade  and  bombardment  ensued;  the  garrison,  con- 
sisting of  6000  men,  surrendered  prisoners  of  war  ;  pos- 
session was  obtained  of  the  islands  of  Walcheren  and 
South  Beveland,  and  thus  terminated  the  success  of  this 
famous  expedition.  Its  calamities  indeed,  are  not  so 
soon  recounted.  To  the  British  troops  that  were  left  to 
keep  possession  of  Walcheren,  and  block  up  the  Scheldt, 
it  proved  a  most  disastrous  enterprise.  From  their  posi- 
tion in  these  low  and  marshy  countries,  they  soon  became 
sickly ;  numbers  found  their  grave  there,  and  many  more 
brought  back  chronic  diseases,  which  long  rendered  the 
very  name  of  Walcheren  a  subject  of  terror!  After 
keeping  possession  of  the  island  till  the  23d  of  December, 
by  which  time  nearly  one  half  of  the  British  troops  left 
there  were  either  dead  or  on  the  sick  list,  the  place  was 
completely  evacuated,  and  thus  terminated  an  expedition 
which,  after  a  prodigious  expense,  totally  disappointed 
the  public  hopes,  and  what  was  much  worse,  exposed  the 
country  to  the  derision  of  its  enemies. 

The  events  of  1810,  are  not  of  sufficient  interest  to 
claim  any  very  particular  attention.  The  war  upon  the 
Peninsula  was  prosecuted  with  better  success,  and  Lord 
Wellington  began  to  distinguish  himself  as  a  General, 
whose  military  skill  reflected  honour  on  the  country.  In 
the  month  of  March,  Sir  Francis  Burdett  was  brought  to 


353        young  man's  book  of  knowledge. 

account  in  the  House  of  Commons  for  writing  a  political 
paper,  in  which  he  had  "  denied  the  power  of  that  house 
to  imprison  the  people  of  England,"  and  avowing  himself 
the  writer  of  it,  he  was  committed  to  the  Tower,  where 
he  remained  a  prisoner  till  the  parliament  was  prorogued. 
Sir  Francis  brought  actions  against  the  Speaker  of  the 
House  of  Commons  for  issuing  his  warrant ;  against  the 
Serjeant  at  Arms  for  executing  it ;  and  against  the  Con- 
stables of  the  Tower  for  keeping  him  in  custody,  but  he 
failed  in  each  of  them,  on  the  plea  of  the  legality  of  the 
warrants. 

The  close  of  the  year  1810,  was  marked  by  the  recur- 
rence of  a  domestic  calamity,  which  produced  a  change 
in  the  government  that  forms  an  era  in  the  annals  of  the 
country.  His  Majesty,  in  consequence,  as  it  is  supposed, 
of  deep  affliction,  excited  by  the  death  of  his  youngest 
daughter,  the  Princess  Amelia,  was  again  attacked  by 
the  mental  malady  under  which  he  had  formerly  labour- 
ed :  and  it  was  found  necessary  to  supply  the  deficiency 
in  the  executive  branch  of  government  by  a  Regency, 
which  was  now  vested  in  His  Royal  Highness  the  Prince 
of  Wales. 

The  regency  bill  gave  rise  to  considerable  discussions 
in  the  House  of  Commons,  and  occupied  its  attention  so 
long  that  it  was  not  finally  passed  into  a  law  till  the  5th 
of  February,  1811.  In  the  mean  time,  the  country  was 
beginning  to  experience  increasing  difficulties  in  the  way 
of  its  commerce.  The  fact  of  a  real  diminution  of  the 
value  of  Bank  Notes  in  comparison  of  Bullion,  at  length 
became  so  notorious  as  to  excite  alarm,  and  parliament 
was  occupied  with  discussions  upon  the  subject  through 
the  greatest  part  of  the  session,  and  pamphlets  and  vo- 
lumes were  written  to  elucidate  this  difficult  question, 
which  after  ail  that  has  been  said  and  written,  remains 
precisely  where  it  before  was. 

Among  the  domestic  occurrences  of  this  year,  we  may 
notice  the  second  enumeration  of  the  population  of  the 
Kingdom  of  Great  Britain,  and  its  general  result.  In 
1801,  the  return  had  been  10,942,646  ;  that  of  1811,  was 
12.  552,144,  exhibiting  an  increase  of  1,611,382,  of  which 
almost  every  town  and  district  numbered  had  a  propor- 
tionate share ;  and  when  we  reflect  that  these  ten  years 


HISTORY  Ot  ENGLAND. 


359 


were  a  time  of  war,  the  increase  appears  very  remarkable. 

The  office  of  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer,  from  the 
period  of  the  dissolution  of  Lord  Grenville's  short  admi- 
nistration, had  been  filled  by  Mr.  Percival,  who  though 
not  a  first  rate  man  in  point  of  talents,  was  not  deficient 
in  application  and  industry,  while  in  debate  he  sometimes 
rose  considerably  above  mediocrity.  As  this  gentleman 
was  entering  the  lobby  of  the  House  of  Commons  on  the 
11th  of  May,  1812,  about  five  in  the  evening,  a  person  of 
the  name  of  Bellingham,  who  had  been  waiting  his 
arrival,  fired  a  pistol  at  him,  the  ball  of  which  entered 
his  left  breast  and  pierced  his  heart.  He  staggered,  fell, 
and  in  a  few  moments  expired.  Nothing  could  surpass 
the  consternation  which  prevailed  in  both  houses  of  Par- 
liament at  this  catastrophe.  The  first  impression  was 
that  a  conspiracy  existed  against  the  whole  administra- 
tion ;  but  when  the  panic  had  subsided,  it  was  found 
that  the  act  was  merely  in  revenge  of  a  supposed  private 
injury. 

The  commercial  relations  between  Great  Britain  and 
America,  had  now,  in  consequence  of  our  orders  in  coun* 
cil,  been  in  a  very  critical  state  for  several  years,  and  the 
temper  of  the  government  of  the  United  States,  at  the 
commencement  of  this  year,  (1812)  rendered  it  manifest 
that  a  war  between  the  two  countries  was  inevitable. 
The  spring  passed,  on  the  part  of  the  Americans,  in  the 
discussion  of  various  measures  of  preparation  by  the 
Congress,  in  which  the  war  party  displayed  a  manifest 
preponderance.  An  embargo  was  laid  on  all  the  shipping 
in  the  United  States  for  the  term  of  90  days  ;  on  the  1st 
of  June,  the  President  sent  a  long  message  to  both  houses 
of  Congress,  recapitulating  the  various  acts  of  provocation 
received  from  England,  and  a  few  days  afterwards,  laid 
before  them  copies  of  the  correspondence  between  Mr. 
Foster,  and  Mr.  Munroe,  the  result  of  which  was,  that  on 
the  18th  of  June,  an  Act  was  passed  declaring  the  actual 
existence  of  war,  between  the  United  States  and  Great 
Britain. 

It  is  n6w  proper  to  revert  to  the  state  of  the  war  in  the 
Peninsula.  In  the  beginning  of  the  year  1811,  Marshal 
Soult  having  obtained  considerable  reinforcements,  in- 
vested Olivenca,  and  on  the  27th  of  January,  after  tha 


360  young  man's  book  of  knowledge. 


batteries  had  begun  to  play,  the  garrison  consisting  of 
4,500  men,  surrendered  prisoners  of  war.  The  French 
army  then  besieged  Badajos,  which  it  pressed  so  closely, 
that  on  the  10th  of  March,  the  governor  capitulated,  and 
the  garrison  of  7000  surrendered  prisoners  of  war.  These 
events  were  a  source  of  great  chagrin  to  Lord  Welling- 
ton, who,  referring  to  them  in  one  of  his  dispatches,  says, 
"  The  Spanish  nation  has  lost  in  the  course  of  two 
months,  the  fortresses  of  Fortosa,  Olivenca,  and  Badajos, 
without  any  sufficient  cause,  while  Marshal  Soult,  with 
a  corps  of  troops  not  exceeding  20,000,  besides  the  cap- 
ture of  the  two  last  places,  has  made  prisoners  and  de- 
stroyed above  22,000  Spanish  troops."  But  the  tide  of 
affairs  from  this  time  turned  rapidly  in  favour  of  the  Bri- 
tish arms.  Lord  Wellington,  early  in  the  spring  of  18i2, 
invested  Ciudad  Roderigo,  and  took  it,  making  the  gar- 
rison of  1700  men  prisoners  of  war.  The  next  object  of 
the  British  general  was  Badajos,  which  he  invested  on 
both  sides,  and  compelled  it  to  surrender  with  a  garrison 
of  5000  men.  Soult  on  this,  retreated  towards  Andalu- 
sia ;  General  Graham  was  dispatched  in  pursuit  of  him, 
and  coming  up  with  the  French  cavalry,  he  routed  them 
with  considerable  loss.  Those  brilliant  successes  were 
followed  up  perseveringly  throughout  the  whole  of  this 
campaign,  and  Lord  Wellington  may  be  regarded  as 
having  the  whole  of  the  Peninsula  under  his  military 
care. 

It  was,  not,  however,  till  late  in  the  month  of  May, 
1813,  that  Lord  Wellington  was  enabled  by  the  recovery 
of  his  sick,  and  the  arrival  of  reinforcements  from  En- 
gland, to  move  from  his  winter  quarters  at  Freynada,  and 
march  to  Salamanca.  On  their  approach,  the  French 
army  retreated  from  the  Tagus  and  Madrid,  and  on  the 
4th  of  June  had  evacuated  Valadolid.  Making  a  stand  at 
Bengos,  they  evinced  a  disposition  to  defend  the  castle, 
but  changing  their  purpose,  they  destroyed  the  fortifica* 
tions,  and  the  whole  army  retreating  through  Bengos, 
marched  towards  the  Ebro.  Crossing  that  river  on  the 
14th  and  15th  of  June,  they  marched  upon  Vittoria. 
Here  they  mustered  all  their  force,  and  made  a  formida- 
ble stand  ;  a  severe  action  ensued,  which  ended  in  favour 
of  the  British,  who  drove  the  French  from  all  their  en- 


ttlSTORY  OF  ENGLAND* 


361 


trenchments,  and  their  retreat  became  so  rapid  that  they 
were  unable  to  carry  off  their  artillery  and  baggage,  the 
whole  of  which,  consisting  of  151  pieces  of  cannon,  and 
415  waggons  of  ammunition  fell  into  the  hands  of  the 
allies.  Such  was  the  battle  of  Vittoria,  which  added 
new  laurels  to  the  illustrious  General. 

From  this  time  the  issue  of  the  contest  was  no  longer 
problematical.  The  French  retired  by  Pampeluna,  and 
re-entered  their  own  country  into  which  the  British  army 
followed  them.  On.  the  25th  February,  1814,  Lord 
Wellington  advanced  through  a  strong  country  inter- 
sected with  rivers,  in  the  face  of  an  active  and  vigilant 
foe,  penetrating  to  the  neighbourhood  of  Bourdeaux.  In 
the  mean  time  similar  success  had  attended  the  arms  of 
Russia,  Austria,  and  Prussia,  in  the  north  of  Europe,  so 
that  the  fate  of  Napoleon  became  every  day  more  omi- 
nous. The  hostile  armies  penetrated  to  the  heights  of 
Paris,  where  the  French  army  took  up  a  strong  defensive 
position,  having  150  pieces  of  cannon  ranged  in  line  for 
the  protection  of  the  city.  On  the  30th  of  March  an 
attack  was  made  by  the  allies,  and  though  the  resistance 
was  obstinate,  the  heights  were  carried.  The  losses  of 
the  French  induced  them  to  send  out  a  flag  of  truce,  pro- 
posing a  cessation  of  hostilities.  On  the  11th  April,  a 
treaty  between  the  allied  powers  and  Buonaparte  was 
signed  at  Paris ;  the  latter  renounced  the  sovereignty  of 
France  and  Italy,  and  consented  to  retire  for  the  remain- 
der of  his  days,  to  the  island  of  Elba,  on  the  coast  of 
Tuscany. 

Louis  XVIII.  who  had  for  several  years  taken  refuge 
in  England,  now  returned  to  France,  hoping  to  establish 
his  hereditary  claim  to  the  throne  of  his  ancestors.  But 
not  a  year  had  elapsed  before  Napoleon  Buonaparte  was 
again  in  the  heart  of  France,  and  at  the  head  of  his  de- 
voted troops.  On  the  26th  February,  1815,  he  crossed 
the  sea,  under  the  shade  of  evening,  from  the  island  of 
Elba,  and  on  the  1st  of  March  anchored  at  the  small 
port  of  Cannes,  in  Provence.  With  a  handful  of  atten- 
dants he  marched  to  Grenoble.  Here  the  7th  regiment 
of  the  line  marched  out  and  joined  him.  The  garrison 
opened  its  gates  to  him,  and  the  magazines  of  the  city 
were  placed  at  his  disposal.    When  intelligence  of  these 

30 


162  tOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOtVL^DGf . 

,fhings  reached  Paris,  it  threw  the  court  into  the  utmost 
consternation,  and  they  saw  the  necessity  of  providing 
for  their  safety  by  retiring  into  the  Netherlands,  first  to 
Lisle  and  then  to  Ghent.  In  a  few  months,  however, 
the  combined  armies  were  again  in  motion ;  they  pro- 
ceeded to  rendezvous  in  the  Netherlands ;  the  battle  of 
Waterloo  ensued,  and  decided  once  more  the  destiny  of 
Napoleon,  who  was  sent  to  the  island  of  Su  Helena* 
where,  after  an  exile  of  a  few  years,  this  ambitious  war- 
rior terminated  his  extraordinary  career,, 


CHAPTER  XL 


EPITOME  OF  AMERICAN  HISTORY, 


1492.  This  was  a  memorable  year.  The  commer- 
cial enterprise  of  the  Portuguese  imparted  a  thirst  for 
discoveries  to  the  nations  of  Europe.  A  native  of  Genoa, 
Christopher  Columbus,  had  long  imagined  that  a  western 
passage  to  the  East  Indies  was  practicable.  After  re- 
peated applications,  and  mortifying  refusals  from  dinV 
rent  courts,  he  at  length  obtained  the  patronage  of  Fer- 
dinand and  Isabella,  of  Spain.  Columbus  sailed  from 
Spain,  on  Friday,  the  3d  of  August,  with  a  small 
•fleet.  On  the  12th  of  October  following,  he  discovered 
the  Island  of  St.  Salvador.  This  important  result  "  laid 
the  foundation  for  all  the  subsequent  discoveries  in  Ame* 
rica,  and,  doubtless  entitled  Columbus  to  the  honour  of 
giving  a  name  to  the  New  World.3'  The  intrepid  navi- 
gator, after  some  time  spent  in  examining  the  country, 
and  in  amicable  traffic  with  the  natives,  set  sail  on  his 
return,  and  arrived  safe  in  Spain,  March  15th,  1493. 
His  account  of  this  great  enterprise  excited  the  astonish^ 
ment  of  Europe,  and  opened  a  wide  theatre  for  the  skill 
of  other  adventurers. 

1499.  Americus  Vespucius,  a  Florentine,  accompanied 


EPITOME  OF  AMERICAN  HISTORY. 


363 


Alonzo  Ojeda,  (an  active  officer,  who  sailed  with  Co- 
lumbus in  his  first  voyage,)  in  another  expedition  to  the 
New  World.  The  flattering  account  which  he  published 
on  his  return,  had  the  effect,  though  with  manifest  injus- 
tice, of  his  name  being  given  to  the  Continent. 

1497.  Under  the  patronage  of  King  Henry  VII.  of 
England,  John  Cabot,  and  his  son,  Sebastian  Cabot, 
commenced  a  voyage  of  discovery.  They  sailed  in  May, 
and  on  the  24th  of  June,  discovered  Newfoundland,  then 
St.  John's,  and  continuing  westerly,  made  the  first  dis- 
covery of  the  Continent  of  America.  Its  whole  coast 
from  Labrador  to  Florida,  was  ranged  by  these  bold 
navigators. 

1524.  No  discoveries  were  attempted  by  the  French 
until  the  commencement  of  this  year.  For  this  purpose, 
Francis  I.  gave  a  commission  to  Verrazano,  a  Florentine. 
Having  surveyed  the  coast  from  Florida  to  the  50th 
degree  of  North  Latitude,  Verrazano,  in  compliment  to 
his  employer,  named  the  country  New  France. 

1584.  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  entered  Pamplico  Sound, 
now  in  North  Carolina,  and  proceeded  from  thence  to 
Roanoke,  an  island  near  the  mouth  of  Albemarle  Sound. 
On  his  return  to  England,  he  gave  a  glowing  description 
of  its  beauty  and  fertility.  In  allusion  to  her  being  un- 
married, Glueen  Elizabeth  bestowed  upon  it  the  name  of 
Virginia. 

1602.  Cape  Cod  was  discovered  by  Captain  Bartho- 
lomew Gosnoid,  of  England. 

1607.  After  several  unsuccessful  attempts  to  form 
settlements  during  a  period  of  115  years,  Jamestown  was 
permanently  established. 

1614.  A  fort  was  built  by  some  Dutch  adventurers 
at  Albany,  on  Hudson's  river.  Thus  commenced  that  im- 
portant city.  The  following  year  a  fort  was  built  and 
settlements  commenced  by  the  Dutch  on  the  Island  of 
Manhattan,  now  New  York.  This  city  was  called 
New  Amsterdam,  until  the  year  1644,  when  the  English 
effected  its  conquest.  Since  that  period  its  growth  has 
been  amazingly  rapid  ;  it  is  evidently  destined  to  become 
one  of  the  first  commercial  cities  in  the  civilised  world. 
Captain  John  Smith  sailed  this  year  from  England. 
The  coast  from  Penobscot  to  Cape  Cod  was  ranged 


364 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


under  his  directions.  He  presented  a  map  of  the  country 
to  Prince  Charles  on  his  return  to  England,  who  named 
it  New  England. 

1620.  The  Puritans  landed  at  Plymouth.  The 
motives  which  impelled  this  sect  to  leave  England  was 
the  prospect  of  enjoying  4£  a  purer  worship,  and  a  greater 
liberty  of  conscience." 

1621.  A  league  of  friendship,  commerce,  and  mutual 
defence,  was  entered  into  by  the  colony  of  Plymouth 
with  Masassoit,  the  great  Sachem  of  the  neighbouring 
Indians.  For  a  period  of  more  than  fifty  years  this 
treaty  was  strictly  observed,  until  the  breaking  out  of 
Philip's  war. 

1622.  Virginia  Colony  experienced  a  cruel  stroke. 
The  Indians  on  the  22d  of  March  butchered,  almost  in 
the  same  instant,.  347  of  the  colony,  men,  women,  and 
children. 

1623.  A  number  of  emigrants  from  England  arrived 
in  the  river  Piscataqua,  and  began  two  settlements  ;  one 
at  a  place  called  Little  Harbour,  the  other  at  a  place  now 
called  Dover :  these  were  the  first  settlements  in  New 
Hampshire. 

1624.  By  an  act  of  King  James  I.  the  London  Com- 
pany which  had  settled  Virginia  was  dissolved. 

1625.  Virginia  Colony  was  brought  more  imme- 
diately under  the  direction  of  the  crown,  by  Charles  I. 
successor  of  James  I.  The  colony  was  subjected  to 
many  grievances  from  the  arbitrary  treatment  of  this 
monarch. 

1628.  The  colony  of  Massachusetts  Bay  in  New 
England,  was  founded. 

1630.  One  thousand  five  hundred  people  arrived  at 
Charlestown :  owing,  howeverr  to  a  deadly  pestilence 
with  which  the  settlement  was  soon  after  attacked,  the 
governor  and  several  of  the  planters  removed  to  Shaw* 
mut;  this  place  they  named  Boston. 

1632.  A  patent  was  granted  by  Charles  I.  to  Lord 
Baltimore,  by  which  a  tract  of  country  on  the  Chesa- 
peake Bay  was  conveyed  to  his  lordship*  This  he 
named  Maryland,  in  honour  of  Henrietta-Maria,  daughter 
of  Henry  the  Great  of  France. 

1663.    Several  Plymouth  adventurers  sent  a  vessel  up 


EPITOME  OF  AMERICAN  HISTORY. 


365 


Connecticut  river  with  building  materials,  and  erected  a 
trading-house  at  Windsor. 

1637.  The  Pequots,  a  tribe  of  Indians,  who  had 
commenced  war  with  the  colonists,  were  entirely  van- 
quished at  the  great  swamp  in  Fairfield. 

1638.  Newhaven  was  settled  by  the  English.  Its 
former  name  was  Quinnapiak. 

1639.  A  charter  was  obtained  from  the  crown  by  Sir 
Ferdinando  Gorges  of  all  the  land  from  Piscataqua  to 
Sagadahoc.  This  territory  was  called  the  Province  of 
Maine.  After  an  interval  of  about  twelve  years,  it  was, 
by  the  request  of  the  people  of  Maine,  taken  under  the 
jurisdiction  of  Massachusetts. 

1643.  The  articles  of  confederation  for  uniting  the 
colonies  of  Massachusetts,  Plymouth,  Connecticut,  and 
Newhaven,  were  signed  May  19th. 

1662.  A  charter  of  incorporation  was  granted  by 
King  Charles  II.  April  2,  to  the  colonists  of  Connecticut. 
They  were  designated  The  Governor  and  Company  of  the 
English  Colony  of  Connecticut,  in  Neio  England,  in 
America. 

1664.  The  colonies  of  New- York,  New  Jersey,  and 
Delaware,  were  granted  by  King  Charles  II.  to  his 
brother  the  Duke  of  York  and  Albany.  Accordingly  an 
expedition  was  fitted  out  under  the  command  of  Colonel 
Richard  Nichols,  who  appeared  before  Manhattan,  and 
summoned  the  Dutch  governor,  Stuyvesant,  to  surrender. 
On  the  27th  of  August,  being  unprepared  for  defence,  he 
capitulated,  and  the  English  became  masters  of  the 
whole  country. 

1675.  King  Philips  war  commenced  this  year. 
New  England  suffered  severely  in  this  contest. 

1676.  A  finishing  stroke  was  given  on  the  12th  of 
August,  to  the  hostilities  of  the  Indians,  by  the  death  of 
Philip.  New  England  lost  six  hundred  men,  had 
twelve  or  thirteen  towns  destroyed,  and  six  hundred 
houses  burnt.  "Every  eleventh  family  was  houseless, 
and  every  eleventh  soldier  had  sunk  to  his  grave." 

1677.  A  controversy  relative  to  the  province  of  Maine, 
which  was  warmly  disputed  by  the  colon}''  of  Massachu- 
setts, and  the  heirs  of  Sir  Ferdinando  Gorges  was  finally 
settled  in  England,  by  which  the  colony  was  adjuged 


366 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


to  the  heirs  of  Sir  Ferdinando.  The  title  was  then  pur- 
chased by  Massachusetts  for  the  sum  of  1,200Z.  The 
territory  was  a  part  of  Massachusetts  from  that  time  until 
1820. 

1679.  New  Hampshire  was  separated  from  the  juris- 
diction of  Massachusetts,  by  order  of  Charles  II. 

168],  In  consequence  of  services  done,  and  debts 
due  to  Admiral  Penn,  King  Charles  II.  granted  to  Wil- 
liam Penn,  the  son  of  the  Admiral,  the  territory  of  Penn- 
sylvania. From  his  judicious  measures,  the  colony  en- 
joyed an  unexampled  share  of  prosperity.  The  name  of 
William  Penn  will  descend  unsullied  to  posterity  as  a 
philanthropist  and  "an  honest  man.55 

1692.  Danvers,  then  a  part  of  Salem,  Massachusetts, 
was  disgraced  by  an  implicit  belief  in  the  power  of  witch- 
craft. This  mad  delusion  rapidly  spread  to  different 
parts  of  New  England.  Twenty  persons  suffered  death 
for  their  supposed  agency  with  the  Prince  of  Darkness, 
150  were  imprisoned,  and  upwards  of  200  were  accused. 
Reason  at  length  prevailed,  and  triumphed  over  these 
mad  proceedings — proceedings  which  caused  anguish  to 
many  an  upright  heart,  and  frightened  the  colony  from 
all  sense  of  propriety. 

1697.  A  treaty  was  concluded  at  Ryswick,  in  Ger- 
many, by  which  mutual  restitution  was  agreed  upon  by 
France  and  England  of  all  the  countries,  ports,  and  co- 
lonies taken  by  each  party  during  the  war.  Previous  to 
its  conclusion,  the  French,  in  conjunction  with  the  In- 
dians, committed  sanguinary  atrocities  on  the  unfortunate 
settlers  in  different  American  colonies. 

1707.  The  French  and  Spaniards  were  repulsed  in 
an  attempt  to  annex  Carolina  to  Florida. 

1710.  A  large  number  of  emigrants  from  Germany, 
settled  on  the  Roanoke,  in  Albemarle  and  Bath  counties. 

1712.  The  Corees  and  Tuscaroras,  with  other  Indian 
tribes,  formed  a  plot  to  massacre  the  whole  number  of 
these  settlers;  and  they  so  far  succeeded  as  to  butcher  in 
a  single  night  107  of  them. 

1713.  A  treaty  of  peace  was  concluded  at  Utrecht 
between  England  and  France.  One  stipulation  was, 
that  "  the  subjects  of  France,  inhabiting  Canada,  and 
other  places,  shall  hereafter  give  no  hindrance  or  moles- 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


367 


tation  to  the  Five  Nations,  or  to  the  other  nations  of  In- 
dians who  are  friends  to  Great  Britain." 

1719.  The  charter  of  Carolina  was  declared  by  the 
King's  privy  council  to  have  been  forfeited ;  and  from 
this  time  until  the  American  revolution,  it  continued 
under  the  royal  protection. 

1722.  A  general  war  was  commenced  by  the  Indians, 
who  had  been  irritated  to  this  measure  by  the  intrigues 
of  the  French  Jesuits. 

1725.  A  termination  was  put  to  these  hostilities, 
during  which  great  distress  had  been  inflicted  on  the 
Eastern  settlements. 

1733.  George  II.  of  England  began  the  settlement  of 
Georgia. 

1 740.  War  having  been  declared  by  England  against 
Spain,  General  Oglethorpe  marched  at  the  head  of  2000 
men  for  Florida,  took  the  forts  of  St.  Diego  and  Moose, 
and  invested  St.  Augustine.  After  sustaining  great  loss, 
he  was  compelled  to  raise  the  siege. 

1742.  The  Spaniards,  in  retaliation,  invaded  Geor- 
gia ;  but  the  expedition  completely  failed  in  its  object* 

1744.  Louisburg  was  captured  from  the  French  by 
troops  from  New  England,  under  the  command  of  Sir 
William  Pepperell.  This  town  was  situated  in  the 
island  of  Cape  Breton,  and  was  called  "  The  Gibraltar 
of  America."  The  French  expended  five  millions  and  a 
half  of  dollars  on  its  fortifications. 

1746.  The  French  government  stimulated  by  a  spirit 
of  revenge,  for  the  loss  of  Louisburg,  fitted  out  a  fleet  of 
forty  ships  of  war,  and  forty-six  transports,  with  three 
thousand  five  hundred  men,  and  forty  thousand  stand  of 
arms  for  the  use  of  the  Canadian  Indians.  Its  object 
was  the  recapture  of  Cape  Breton,  and  the  destruction  of 
the  colonies,  The  fleet  however  met  with  a  delay,  and 
its  aim  was  frustrated  by  the  damages  it  received  in  a 
storm. 

1748.  Peace  was  concluded  between  France  and 
England  at  Aix-la-Chapelle,  to  the  great  joy  of  the  co- 
lonies. 

1756.  Owing  to  the  encroachments  of  the  French  on 
the  frontiers  of  the  American  colonies,  a  declaration  of 
war  was  issued  against  France  by  George  Ih  George 


368  EPITOME  OF  AMERICAN  HISTORY. 

Washington,  who  had  just  attained  his  majority,  gave* 
proofs  on  this  occasion  of  an  enterprise  and  perseverance 
which  were  the  preludes  of  still  more  important  services. 

175S.  The  expeditions  of  the  English  in  America 
had  been  marked  by  disaster;  a  change,  however,  having 
taken  place  in  the  Administration,  the  celebrated  Lord 
Chatham  being  placed  at  the  head  of  the  Cabinet,  a 
succession  of  victories  added  lustre  to  the  arms  of  Great 
Britain. 

1759.  On  the  13th  of  September  a  bloody  contest 
took  place  on  the  plains  of  Abraham,  between  the  Eng- 
lish and  French  armies,  under  the  command  of  General 
Wolfe  and  General  Montcalm.  The  French  sustained 
a  loss  of  one  thousand  men  killed,  and  one  thousand  pri- 
soners. The  killed  and  wounded  of  the  English  did  not 
exceed  six  hundred.  Wolfe  and  Montcalm  fell  in  the 
conflict. 

1761.  Virginia  and  South  Carolina  were  invaded  by 
the  Cherokees ;  they  were  completely  defeated  :  peace 
was  immediately  sued  for  by  these  savages,  and  on  safe 
conditions  terms  were  granted. 

1763.  By  a  definitive  treaty,  Nova  Scotia,  Canada, 
the  Isle  of  Cape  Breton,  and  all  other  islands  in  the  gulf 
and  river  St.  Lawrence,  were  ceded  to  the  British  crown 
by  the  French  government. 

1774.  The  Shaking  Quakers  arrived  from  England, 
and  formed  a  settlement  at  Niskayuna,  near  Albany. 

1775.  An  engagement  took  place  at  Lexington,  Mas- 
sachusetts, between  the  English  troops  and  colonists,  in 
consequence  of  the  oppressive  measures  of  the  English 
government.  But  there  is  a  limit  to  tyranny,  and  the 
acts  of  oppression  are  wisely  ordained  to  fall  with  tenfold 
weight  on  its  own  head.  Notwithstanding  the  almost 
prophetic  warnings  of  Lord  Chatham,  a  blind  and  head- 
strong policy  urged  the  Administration  of  Britain  to  the 
beginning  of  a  warfare,  the  ending  of  which  Providence 
had  designed  should  be  crowned  with  glory.  It  was, 
then,  at  Lexington  the  torch  of  liberty  was  first  lighted  ) 
and  it  is  remarkable  that  the  stamp  on  a  blank  piece  of 
paper,  and  the  duty  on  shrivelled  leaves,  called  tea, 
should  be  among  the  first  causes  that  led  to  the  ultimate 
independence  of  the  American  colonies.    But  to  return. 


FPITOME  OF  AMERICAN  HISTORY. 


369 


"  General  Gage,  the  King's  governor  of  Massachusetts, 
learning  that  a  large  quantity  of  military  stores  had  been 
deposited  by  the  provincials  at  Concord,  detached  Lieu- 
tenant Colonel  Smith,  and  Major  Pitcairn,  with  eight 
hundred  grenadiers  to  destroy  them.  On  their  arrival  at 
Lexington,  on  the  morning  of  the  19th  of  April,  seventy 
of  the  militia,  who  had  hastily  assembled  upon  an  alarm, 
were  under  arms  upon  the  parade.  Eight  of  these  were 
without  provocation  killed,  and  several  wounded.  From 
Lexington,  the  detachment  proceeded  to  Concord,  and 
destroyed  the  stores.  After  killing  several  of  the  militia 
who  came  out  to  oppose  them,  they  retreated  to  Lexing- 
ton with  some  loss,  the  Americans  firing  upon  them  from 
behind  walls,  hedges,  and  buildings.  Fortunately  for 
the  British,  here  Lord  Percy  met  them,  with  a  reinforce- 
ment of  nine  hundred  men,  some  marines,  and  two  field- 
pieces.  Still  annoyed  by  the  provincials,  they  continued 
their  retreat  to  Bunker's  Hill,  in  Charlestown,  and  the 
day  following  crossed  over  to  Boston.  The  British  lost, 
in  killed  and  wounded,  during  their  absence,  two  hundred 
and  seventy-three.  The  loss  of  the  Americans  amounted 
to  eighty-eight  killed,  wounded,  and  missing."  On  the 
17th  of  June  was  fought  the  battle  Of  Bunker's  Hill. 
The  Americans  were  obliged  to  retire,  not,  however,  with- 
out inflicting  a  loss  on  the  British  of  two  hundred  and 
twenty-six  killed,  and  twenty-eight  wounded.  The 
Americans  lost  one  hundred  and  thirty-nine  killed:  the 
wounded  and  missing  amounted  to  three  hundred  and 
fourteen.  By  the  inhumanity  of  General  Gage,  Charles- 
town  wTas  reduced  to  a  heap  of  ashes  during  the  en- 
gagement. The  battle  of  Bunker's  Hill  inspired  tho 
Americans  with  confidence.  On  the  10th  of  May,  the 
second  continental  congress  met  at  Philadelphia,  and 
George  Washington  was  unanimously  selected  by  con- 
gress  to  head  the  opposition  which  was  now  determined 
upon  against  England.  With  singular  modesty,  this 
illustrious  man  exclaimed,  "  I  do  not  think  myself  equal 
to  the  command  with  which  I  am  honoured."  On  the 
10th  of  September  one  thousand  American  troops  landed 
at  St.  John's,  the  first  British  post  in  Canada.  General 
Schuyler,  the  commander,  found  it  advisable  to  return  to 
the  Isle  aux  Noix,  twelve  miles  south  of  St.  John's.  The 


370 


YOUNG  MAN5S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


health  of  General  Schuyler  having  suffered,  the  command 
devolved  on  General  Montgomery,  who  in  a  few  days 
returned  to  the  investment  of  St.  John's.  This  important 
post  surrendered  to  him  on  the  3d  of  November.  Five 
hundred  regulars  and  one  hundred  Canadians  became 
prisoners  to  the  provincials.  Thirty- nine  pieces  of  can- 
non, seven  mortars,  and  five  hundred  stand  of  arms  fell 
into  the  hands  of  the  victors.  Immediately  after  this 
affair,  Montreal  capitulated,  without  resistance,  to  this 
enterprising  general.  Quebec  was  next  menaced.  On 
the  1st  of  December  the  siege  commenced,  and  continued 
for  nearly  a  month  to  little  purpose.  An  escalade  was 
now  determined  upon,  which  proved  unsuccessful.  The 
brave  Montgomery  fell  while  attempting  to  force  a 
barrier. 

1776.  General  Arnold,  who  had  been  despatched  by 
Washington  in  order  to  reduce  Quebec,  finding  his  forces 
inadequate,  was  obliged  to  retire.  The  Americans  hav- 
ing been  compelled  to  relinquish  one  post  after  another, 
had  wholly  evacuated  Canada  by  the  18th  of  June. 
Early  in  the  spring  of  this  year,  General  Washington 
conceived  the  bold  plan  of  expelling,  by  direct  assault, 
the  British  army  from  Boston.  The  English  were  com- 
pletely out-manoeuvred,  and  on  the  17th  of  March,  the 
British  troops  under  Lord  William  Howe,  sailed  for  Ha- 
lifax. The  rear-guard  of  the  British  was  scarcely  out 
of  the  town  when  Washington  entered  it  on  the  other 
side,  with  colours  displayed,  drums  beating,  and  all  the 
forms  of  victory  and  triumph.  He  was  received  by  the 
inhabitants  with  demonstrations  of  joy  and  gratitude. 
Sixteen  months  had  the  people  suffered  the  distresses  of 
hunger,  and  the  outrages  of  an  insolent  soldiery. 

An  attempt  was  made  by  General  Clinton  and  Sir 
Peter  Parker,  in  the  months  of  June  and  July,  to  destroy 
the  fort  on  Sullivan's  Island,  near  Charleston,  S.C.  The 
British,  after  an  action  of  upwards  of  ten  hours,  with 
their  ships  nearly  wrecks,  and  a  loss  of  two  hundred 
killed  and  wounded,  were  defeated.  The  Americans  lost 
but  ten  killed,  and  twenty -two  wounded.  This  victory 
rescued  the  southern  states  fortwo  years  and  a  half  from 
the  calamities  of  war. 

On  the  fourth  of  July,  the  thirteen  confederate  colonies 


EPITOME  OF  AMERICAN  HISTORY. 


371 


declared  themselves  Free  and  Independent,  under  the 
name  of  the  Thirteen  United  States  of  America ;  and 
dissolved  their  allegiance  to  the  British  crown.  On  the 
27th  of  August,  the  American  army,  in  and  near  New 
York,  amounted  to  upwards  of  seventeen  thousand  men. 
A  strong  party  was  encamped  near  Brooklyn,  on  Long 
Island,  under  the  command  of  General  Sullivan.  They 
were  attacked  by  the  British,  commanded  by  Sir  Henry 
Clinton,  Percy,  and  Cornwallis,  and  defeated.  In  this 
action  the  Americans  lost  upwards  of  one  thousand  men, 
the  British  scarcely  four  hundred.  On  the  1 2th  of  Oc- 
tober, Washington  having  evacuated  New  York,  it  was 
entered  by  the  English.  On  the  28th  of  September, 
Washington  was  attacked  on  White  Plains,  by  Generals 
Clinton  and  Hiester.  The  action  was  indecisive.  Hav- 
ing recrossed  the  Delaware  into  New  Jersey,  Washington 
surprised  and  took  1000  Hessians  prisoners  at  Trenton. 
He  also  attacked  a  detachment  of  the  British  army  at 
Princeton.  Sixty  of  the  enemy  were  killed,  and  three 
hundred  made  prisoners  in  this  affair. 

1777.  Washington  at  the  commencement  of  the 
campaign  in  this  year,  had  little  more  than  seven  thou- 
sand men  under  his  command.  On  the  11th  of  Septem- 
ber was  fought  the  battle  of  Brandywine.  After  an  ob- 
stinate engagement  the  Americans  were  defeated  with 
the  loss  of  three  hundred  killed,  and  six  hundred  wound- 
ed. The  British  stated  their  loss  at  less  than  one  hun- 
dred killed,  and  four  hundred  wrounded.  General  Howe 
entered  Philadelphia  on  the  26th  of  September.  In  an 
attack  on  Germantown  on  the  4th  of  October,  the  Ame- 
ricans were  repulsed  with  the  loss  of  two  hundred  killed, 
six  hundred  wounded,  and  four  hundred  prisoners;  that 
of  the  British  was  estimated  at  one  hundred  killed,  and 
five  hundred  wounded.  Notwithstanding  this  disastrous 
reverse,  the  plan  of  Washington's  attack  gave  satisfaction 
to  Congress,  who  applauded  the  bravery  displayed  by 
his  army. 

On  the  16th  of  August,  a  party  of  troops  called  the 
Green  Mountain  Boys,  and  a 'body  of  New  Hampshire 
militia,  under  the  orders  of  General  Stark,  attacked  a 
detachment  of  the  British  army,  consisting  of  500  Eng- 
lish, and  100  Indians,  at  Bennington,  in  Vermont.  Co- 


372 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE- 


lonel  Baum,  the  commander  of  the  British  forces  was 
slain,  and  the  Americans  obtained  a  decisive  victory.  On 
the  17th  of  October,  the  British  army,  commanded  by 
General  Burgoyne,  after  unparalleled  sufferings,  capitu- 
lated to  General  Gates  at  Saratoga.  It  consisted  of  five 
thousand  seven  hundred  effective  men.  Soon  after  this 
important  event,  a  formal  treaty  of  alliance  and  com- 
merce was  concluded  between  France  and  America, 
upon  highly  advantageous  terms  to  the  United  States. 

1779.  On  the  15th  of  July,  Stoney  Point,  forty  miles 
north  of  New  York,  on  the  Hudson,  was  attacked  by 
General  Wayne,  a  who  with  a  strong  detachment  of 
active  infantry,  set  out  towards  the  place  at  noon.  His 
march  of  fourteen  miles  over  high  mountains,  through 
deep  morasses,  and  difficult  defiles,  was  accomplished  by 
eight  o'clock  in  the  evening.  At  the  distance  of  a  mile 
from  the  point  General  Wayne  halted,  and  formed  his 
men  into  two  columns,  putting  himself  at  the  head  of  the 
right.  Both  columns  were  directed  to  march  in  oi'der 
and  silence,  with  unloaded  muskets  and  fixed  bajyonets. 
At  midnight  they  arrived  under  the  walls  of  the  fort. 
An  unexpected  obstacle  now  presented  itself:  the  deep 
morass,  which  covered  the  works,  was  at  this  time  over- 
flowed by  the  tide.  The  English  opened  a  tremendous 
fire  of  musketry,  and  cannon  loaded  with  grape  shot ;  but 
neither  the  inundated  morass,  nor  a  double  palisade,  nor 
the  storm  of  fire  that  was  poured  upon  them,  could  resist 
the  impetuosity  of  the  Americans  :  they  opened  their  way 
with  the  bayonet,  prostrated  whatever  opposed  them, 
scaled  the  fort,  and  the  two  columnts  met  in  the  centre  of 
the  works.  The  English  lost  upwards  of  six  hundred 
men  in  killed  and  prisoners.'7  For  boldness  of  design, 
and  rapidity  of  execution,  this  was  decidedly  the  most 
energetic  enterprise  which  occurred  in  the  history  of  the 
war. 

General  Sullivan,  at  the  head  of  five  or  six  thousand 
men,  marched  in  the  country  up  the  Susquehanna,  and 
attacked  the  Indians:  the  savages  fought  bravely,  but 
were  overpowered.  The  country  was  laid  waste,  and 
forty  villages  were  consumed. 

1780.  On  the  llth  of  May,  after  a  gallant  defence, 
the  American  army  capitulated  at  Charleston.  Five 


EPITOME  OF  AMERICAN  HISTORY. 


373 


thousand  men,  and  five  hundred  pieces  of  artillery,  fell 
into  the  hands  of  the  British. 

In  the  month  of  July,  General  Sumpter  was  extremely 
active  in  South  Carolina.  In  one  instance  he  reduced 
the  Prince  of  Wales'  regiment  from  two  hundred  and 
seventy-eight  to  nine. 

A  bloody  engagement  took  place  on  the  16th  of  Au- 
gust, at  Camden,  one  hundred  and  twenty  miles  north- 
west of  Charleston.  Owing  to  the  cowardly  conduct  of 
the  Virginia  militia,  the  British  forces  commanded  by 
Lord  Rawdon,  obtained  a  complete  victory.  The  Ame- 
ricans, under  General  Gates  had  between  six  and  seven 
hundred  killed,  and  the  wounded  and  prisoners  amounted 
to  one  thousand  four  hundred.  The  British  stated  their 
loss  to  be  only  three  hundred  and  twenty-five. 

A  squadron  of  seven  sail  of  the  line,  five  frigates,  and 
five  smaller  armed  vessels,  with  several  transports,  and 
six  thousand  men,  under  the  command  of  Lieutenant- 
General  Count  de  Rochambeau,  arrived  at  Rhode  Island, 
on  the  10th  of  July.  This  timely  assistance  from  France 
was  received  with  great  joy. 

Major-General  Arnold  having  basely  entered  into  ne- 
gotiations with  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  apian  was  concocted 
for  the  surprise  and  capture  of  the  important  fortress  of 
West  Point,  on  the  21st  of  September.  Major  Andre, 
who  acted  the  part  of  spy  on  this  occasion,  was  detected 
at  Tarrytown,  by  three  militia  soldiers,  and  executed 
on  the  2d  of  October ;  his  fate  excited  great  sympathy. 
Arnold,  as  the  price  of  his  treachery,  received  ten  thou- 
sand pounds  sterling,  and  the  commission  of  Brigadier- 
General  in  the  British  army. 

1781.  The  whole  Pennsylvania  line  of  troops,  to  the 
amount  of  one  thousand  three  hundred  men,  revolted  at 
Morristown..  Want  of  pay,  clothing,  and  provision,  was 
the  cause  of  this  mutiny.  Sir  Henry  Clintpn  endeavour- 
ed to  seduce  them  into  the  British  army.  To  the  honour 
of  these  men,  not  one  deserted  the  standard  of  liberty. 
Congress  redressed  their  grievances,  and  they  again 
cheerfully  joined  in  the  deliverance  of  their  country. 

Arnold  having  left  New  York  with  a  number  of 
armed  vessels,  and  1600  men,  committed  great  devasta- 
tions in  the  South.    At  the  request  of  General  Washing- 

31 


374 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


ton,  a  French  squadron  from  Rhode  Island  was  sent  to 
cut  off  Arnold's  retreat.  The  French  and  English  fleets1 
met  off  the  Capes  of  Virginia.  The  battle  terminated  in 
favour  of  the  English,  and  Arnold  narrowly  escaped 
from  the  punishment  he  so  richly  merited  by  his  treason. 

A  detachment  of  five  hundred  Americans  under  Ge- 
neral Morgan,  and  upwards  of  one  thousand  British, 
commanded  by  General  Tarleton,  came  to  action  at  the 
Cowpens.  The  English  lost  upwards  of  one  hundred 
killed,  more  than  five  hundred  prisoners,  two  pieces  of 
artillery,  twelve  standards,  eight  hundred  muskets,  thir- 
ty-five baggage  waggons,  and  one  hundred  dragoon 
horses.  The  Americans  had  no  more  than  twelve  killed, 
and  sixty  wounded. 

On  the  8th  of  March  a  general  engagement  took  place 
at  Guilford  House,  between  the  English  commanded  by 
Cornwallis,  and  the  continentals  under  General  Greene'. 
The  Americans  were  defeated  with  the  loss  of  four  hun- 
dred ia  killed  and  wounded.  General  Green  after  this 
repulse  led  his  troops  into  South  Carolina,  with  the  de- 
sign of  attacking  the  strong  military  post  of  Camden. 
On  the  25th  of  April,  Lord  Rawdon  commenced  the  en- 
gagement,  but  owing  to  a  regiment  of  veterans  giving 
way  to  an  inferior  force,  the  Americans,  after  a  sangui- 
nary struggle,  were  obliged  to  retreat. 

On  the  30th  of  September,  the  combined  French  and 
American  armies,  amounting  to  twelve  thousand  men, 
moved  upon  Yorktown  and  Gloucester:  the  Count  cle 
Grasse  also  proceeded  up  to  the  mouth  of  York  river,  for 
the  purpose  of  preventing  Lord  Cornwallis  from  effecting 
a  retreat,  or  receiving  supplies.  Washington's  heavy 
ordnance  having  arrived,  the  siege  was  commenced  with 
unparalleled  vigour.  On  the  memorable  19th  of  October, 
victory  smiled  on  the  American  arms,  and  the  whole  of 
the  British  army,  amounting  to  more  than  seven  thou- 
sand men  were  made  prisoners  of  war.  A  splendid  park 
of  artillery,  consisting  of  one  hundred  and  sixty  pieces 
of  brass  ordnance  was  among  the  trophies  of  the  day. 
The  submission  of  the  Royal  army  is  represented  as 
having  been  impressive  and  affecting.  u  The  road 
through  which  the  captive  army  marched  was  lined  with 
spectators,  French  and  American.   On  one  side  the  com- 


EPITOME   OF  AMERICAN  HISTORY. 


375 


mander  in  chief,  surrounded  with  his  suite  and  the  Ame- 
rican staff,  took  his  station ;  on  the  other  side  opposite  to 
him,  was  the  Count  de  Rochambeau,  in  the  like  manner 
attended.  The  captive  army  approached,  moving  slowly 
in  column,  with  grace  and  precision.  Universal  silence 
was  observed  amidst  the  vast  concourse,  and  the  utmost 
decency  prevailed."  The  event  was  celebrated  throughout 
the  United  States  with  heartfelt  demonstrations  of  joy, 
and  the  30th  of  December  was  appointed  as  a  day  of 
national  thanksgiving.  After  this  glorious  conquest,  the 
continuance  of  war  was  only  indicated  by  a  few  light 
skirmishes. 

1782.  On  the  4th  of  March,  a  motion  was  made  in 
the  Commons  of  England,  "  that  the  House  would  con- 
sider as  enemies  to  his  majesty  and  to  the  country,  all 
those  who  should  advise,  or  attempt  the  further  prosecu- 
tion of  offensive  war,  on  the  continent  of  North  America." 

1783.  The  definitive  treaty  of  peace  between  Great 
Britain  and  America  was  signed  on  the  30th  of  Septem- 
ber. The  army  of  the  United  States  was  disbanded  on 
the  30th  of  November.  Washington,  on  this  interesting 
occasion,  addressed  his  fellow-soldiers  in  the  following 
affectionate  language  :  "  Being  now  to  conclude  these 
his  last  public  orders,  to  take  his  ultimate  leave  in  a  short 
time  of  the  military  character,  and  to  bid  a  final  adieu  to 
the  armies  he  has  so  long  had  the  honour  to  command, 
he  can  only  again  offer  in  their  behalf  his  recommenda- 
tions to  their  grateful  country,  and  his  prayer  to  the  God 
of  armies. 

"  May  ample  justice  be  done  them  here,  and  may  the 
choicest  favour,  both  here  and  hereafter,  attend  those, 
who,  under  the  divine  auspices,  have  secured  innumerable 
blessings  for  others.  With  these  wishes,  and  this  bene- 
diction, the  commander  in  chief  is  about  to  retire  from 
service.  The  curtain  of  separation  will  soon  be  drawn, 
and  the  military  scene  will  be  closed  for  ever." 

On  the  23d  of  December,  Washington  resigned  in  the 
hall  of  congress,  his  commission  as  commander  in  chief 
of  the  American  army,  and  concluded  his  speech  in  the 
following  manner :  "  I  consider  it  an  indispensable  duty 
to  close  the  last  solemn  act  of  my  official  life,  by  com- 
mending the  interests  of  our  dearest  country  to  the  pro- 


376  young  man's  book  of  knowlepge, 

tection  of  Almighty  God,  and  those  who  have  the  super- 
intendence of  them  to  his  holy  keeping.  Having  now 
finished  the  work  assigned  me,  I  retire  from  the  great 
theatre  of  action  ;  and  bidding  an  affectionate  farewell 
to  this  august  body,  under  whose  orders  I  have  long 
acted,  I  here  offer  my  commission,  and  take  my  leave 
of  all  the  employments  of  public  life." 

Congress,  upon  accepting  his  commission,  through 
President  Mifflin,  expressed  their  high  sense  of  the  inva- 
luable services  rendered  to  his  country.  The  President 
concluded  his  speech  in  the  following  impressive  words : 
"  We  join  you  in  commending  the  interests  of  our  dearest 
country  to  the  protection  af  Almighty  God,  beseeching 
Him  to  dispose  the  hearts  and  minds  of  its  citizens  to  im- 
prove the  opportunity  afforded  them  of  becoming  a  happy 
and  respectable  nation.  And  for  you,  we  address  to  Him 
our  earnest  prayers,  that  a  life  so  beloved,  may  be  fostered 
with  all  His  care;  that  your  days  may  be  as  happy  as 
they  have  been  illustrious ;  and  that  He  will  finally  give 
you  that  reward  which  this  world  cannot  give.35  Never 
was  more  solemnity  observed  in  any  assembly.  This 
act,  so  full  of  disinterestedness  and  true  greatness,  shed  a 
halo  of  glory  around  the  head  of  Washington. 

17S4.  The  population  of  the  United  States  at  this 
period,  did  not  exceed  three  millions  two  hundred  and 
fifty  thousand. 

1786.  In  consequence  of  the  disorganised  state  of  the 
general  government,  tumultuous  assemblies  of  the  people 
took  place  in  some  of  the  States.  An  armed  force,  under 
General  Lincoln  subdued  the  spirit  of  opposition  in  Mas- 
sachusetts, and  shortly  after  order  was  generally  restored. 

1787.  The  commerce  of  the  United  States  exhibited 
a  remarkable  revival.  Her  intercourse  with  England 
was  on  a  most  extensive  scale  ;  and  from  France  and  her 
dependencies,  the  imports  amounted  to  two  millions  and 
a  half  of  dollars,  and  her  exports  to  five  millions  of 
dollars. 

1789.  General  Washington  was  inducted  into  the 
office  of  President  of  the  United  States. 

1791.  On  the  4th  of  March,  by  consent  of  Congress, 
Vermont  became  one  of  the  United  States. 

General  St.  Clair  was  defeated  in  battle  with  the  Id 


EPITOME  OF  AMERICAN   HISTORY.  377 

dians,  near  the  Miami,  in  Ohio.  His  force  consisted  of 
one  thousand  five  hundred  men,  that  of  the  Indians 
about  the  same  number.  The  Americans  sustained  a 
severe  loss :  thirty-eight  commissioned  officers  were  killed 
in  the  field,  and  five  hundred  and  ninety-three  non-com- 
missioned officers  and  privates  were  slain  and  missing. 
No  estimate  could  be  formed  of  the  loss  of  the  Indians. 

1792.  Party  spirit  ran  extremely  high.  The  policy 
of  government  adopted  by  Washington,  and  his  friends 
in  the  cabinet,  was  violently  assailed,  and  a  fixed  oppo- 
sition was  organised.  By  act  of  Congress,  Kentucky 
was  admitted  into  the  Union  as  a  State,  on  the  1st  of 
June. 

Preparations  were  hastened  by  the  President,  during 
the  recess  of  Congress,  for  a  vigorous  prosecution  of  the 
war  with  the  Indians.  Such  small  inducements,  how- 
ever, were  presented  to  engage  in  the  service,  that  a  suf- 
ficient number  of  recruits  could  not  be  raised  to  authorise 
an  expedition  against  them  during  the  present  year. 

1793.  Washington,  contrary  to  his  wishes,  was  again 
elected  to  the  presidential  chair  of  state.  Mr.  Adams  was 
re-elected  vice-president. 

On  the  declaration  of  war  by  France  against  England, 
a  strong  desire  existed  in  the  United  States  of  making 
common  cause  with  the  French  republic  against  Great 
Britain.  By  the  advice  of  his  cabinet,  a  proclamation  of 
neutrality  was  issued  on  the  22d  of  April.  This  pro- 
ceeding gave  great  offence  to  the  opposition  party,  but  on 
the  meeting  of  congress  in  December,  the  proclamation 
of  neutrality  was  approved  by  them. 

1794.  Mr.  Jefferson,  the  secretary  of  state,  resigned 
his  office  on  the  last  day  of  December,  1793,  and  was 
succeeded  by  the  then  attorney-general,  Edmund  Ran- 
dolph. A  resolution  was  passed  during  the  session,  to 
provide  a  naval  force  of  six  frigates,  four  of  forty-four, 
and  two  of  thirty-six  guns,  for  the  protection  of  the  com- 
merce of  the  United  States,  against  the  Algerine  cor- 
sairs. A  law  was  also  passed,  prohibiting  the  carrying 
on  of  the  Slave  Trade  from  the  ports  of  America. 

General  Wayne,  with  a  force  of  nine  hundred  men, 
attacked  the  Indians,  August  20th,  on  the  banks  of  the 
Miami.    Although  the  Indians  had  two  thousand  war* 
31* 


378 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE 


riors,  a  complete  victory  was  gained  over  them.  A  ge- 
neral war  with  the  Six  Nations,  and  all  the  tribes  north- 
west of  the  Ohio,  was  prevented  by  this  event. 

An  insurrection  broke  out  in  Pennsylvania,  dissatis 
faction  having  been  created  by  the  laws  enacted  by  con- 
gress, laying  duties  on  spirits  distilled  in  the  United 
States.  The  insurgents  laid  down  their  arms  on  the 
approach  of  a  body  of  militia,  under  Governor  Lee,  of 
Maryland.  Eighteen  of  the  insurgents  were  taken  and 
tried  for  treason,  but  not  convicted. 

1795.  Colonel  Hamilton  resigned  the  office  of  secre- 
tary of  the  treasury. — Mr.  Jay  concluded  an  advanta- 
geous treaty  with  Great  Britain,  and  prevented  a  war 
between  the  two  countries,  which  for  some  time  had  ap- 
peared as  unavoidable. — Treaties  were  also  concluded 
with  the  Dey  of  Algiers  ;  with  the  Miamis  in  the  West, 
and  with  Spain,  all  highly  advantageous  to  the  United 
States. 

1796.  Tennessee  was  admitted  by  Congress,  into  the 
Union  as  a  State,  on  the  1st  of  June. 

After  a  protracted  debate  of  seven  weeks,  on  the  sub- 
ject of  the  treaty  with  Great  Britain,  and  for  the  purpose 
of  making  the  necessary  arrangements  for  the  same,  a 
majority  of  only  three  was  in  favour  of  the  resolutions. 

General  Washington  published  a  valedictory  address 
to  his  countrymen,  fraught  with  the  lessons  of  wisdom, 
and  breathing  a  spirit  of  the  most  exalted  patriotism  for 
America. 

1797.  Mr.  Adams  was  declared  by  both  houses  of 
Congress,  to  be  elected  President  of  the  United  States. 

1798.  War  with  France  was  fully  anticipated,  Mr, 
Adams  having  received  intelligence  that  the  French  re- 
public had  announced  its  determination  to  General 
Pinckney,  not  to  receive  another  minister  from  the  United 
States,  until  after  the  redress  of  grievances,  &c."  ;  Con- 
gress was  convened  on  the  15th  of  June,  and  the  Presi- 
dent, warmed  by  a  true  sense  of  independence,  urged 
Congress  "  to  repel  this  indignity  of  the  French  govern- 
ment, by  a  course  which  shall  convince  that  government 
and  the  world  that  we  are  not  a  degraded  people,  humi- 
liated under  a  colonial  spirit  of  fear,  and  a  sense  of  infe- 
riority, fitted  to  be  the  miserable  instruments  of  foreign 


EPITOME   OF  AMERICAN  HISTORY. 


379 


influence,  and  regardless  of  national  honour,  character, 
and  interest.'7  A  desire  for  peace  was  still  retained  by 
the  President,  envoys  extraordinary  were  appointed  to 
the  French  republic  to  carry  into  effect  the  pacific  dispo- 
tions  of  the  American  government.  The  mission  failed — 
injuries  had.  been  inflicted  on  the  commerce  of  the  United 
States,  and  measures  were  promptly  adopted  to  repel  the 
threatenings  of  the  French.  The  army  was  augmented, 
and  General  Washington  was  appointed  commander  in 
chief.  Overtures  of  a  pacific  nature  were  indirectly  com- 
municated by  the  French  Government  to  the  President, 
negotiations  were  commenced,  and  a  treaty  of  peace  was 
concluded  at  Paris,  soon  after  which  the  provisional  army 
in  America  was  disbanded. 

1799.  General  Washington  expired  on  the  14th  of 
December,  at  his  seat,  Mount  Vernon,  in  Virginia.  His 
loss  was  lamented  with  a  sincerity  of  which  there  is  not 
a  parallel  in  history. 

1800.  The  seat  of  government  was  transferred  from 
Philadelphia  to  the  city  of  Washington,  in  the  district  of 
Columbia. 

1801.  Mr.  Jefferson  was  elected  President,  and  Mr, 
Burr,  Vice-President,  of  the  United  States. 

1802.  By  act  of  Congress,  Ohio  was  admitted  as  an 
independent  State  into  the  Union. 

1804.  General  Hamilton  was  mortally  wounded  in 
a  duel  with  Colonel  Burr,  the  Vice-President  of  the  Uni- 
ted States. 

Mr.  Jefferson  was  re-elected  President,  and  George 
Clinton,  of  New  York,  Vice-President  of  the  United 
States. 

A  treaty  of  peace  was  negotiated  by  Colonel  Lear,  be- 
tween Tripoli  and  the  United  States ;  the  Tripolitan  and 
American  prisoners  were  exchanged :  the  Pacha  had 
given  to  him  the  sum  of  sixty  thousand  dollars. 

1805.  Michigan  became  a  distinct  territorial  govern- 
ment of  the  United  States. 

Colonel  Burr  was  detected  in  the  formation  of  a  pro- 
ject for  revolutionizing  the  territory  west  of  the  Allegha- 
nies — of  establishing  an  independent  empire  in  that  re- 
gion, of  which  New  Orleans  was  to  be  the  capital,  and 
himself  the  chief    For  this  daring  scheme  he  was  brought 


380         young  man's  book  of  knowledge. 


to  trial  at  Richmond  on  a  charge  of  treason:  no  overt 
act  being  proved  against  him  in  the  state  of  Virginia,  he 
was  permitted  to  go  at  large. 

1806.  The  ports  and  rivers  from  the  Elbe,  a  river  in 
Germany,  to  Brest,  a  seaport  of  France,  were  by  an  order 
in  council  of  the  British  government,  issued  on  the  16th 
of  May,  declared  to  be  in  a  state  of  blockade.  The 
"  Berlin  decree"  was  issued  in  November  by  Napoleon 
Buonaparte,  by  which  all  the  British  islands  were  de- 
clared to  be  in  a  state  of  blockade,  and  all  intercourse 
with  them  was  prohibited.  This  act  was  a  flagrant  dis- 
regard of  the  law  of  nations :  it  violated  the  treaty  be- 
tween the  United  States  and  France,  and  had  the  direct 
tendency  of  crippling  the  commerce  of  America :  then 
followed  the  retaliatory  order  of  council  of  the  British 
government,  prohibiting  all  coasting  trade  with  France. 

In  prosecution  of  the  right  of  search,  an  attack  was 
made  by  the  British  frigate  Leopard,  of  50  guns,  upon 
the  American  frigate  Chesapeake,  off  the  capes  of  Vir- 
ginia. Three  men  were  killed,  and  sixteen  wounded, 
on  board  the  Chesapeake.  Commodore  Barron  took 
from  her  the  men  claimed  as  deserters.  This  unprovoked 
attack  caused  the  President  to  issue  a  proclamation,  or- 
dering all  British  armed  vessels  to  leave  the  waters  of 
the  United  States,  and  prohibiting  them  to  enter  until 
satisfaction  for  the  attack  on  the  Chesapeake  should  be 
made  by  the  British  government.  Appropriations  were 
made  by  Congress  for  putting  the  country  in  a  complete 
state  of  defence,  and  on  the  22d  of  December  an  act  was 
passed,  laj^ing  an  embargo  on  all  vessels  within  the  juris- 
diction of  the  United  States. 

The  English  government  issued  their  Orders  in  Coun- 
cil in  retaliation  for  the  Berlin  Decree.  These  orders 
declared  France  and  her  allies,  all  nations  at  war  with 
Great  Britain,  and  all  places  from  which  the  British  flag 
is  excluded,  under  the  same  restrictions,  in  point  of  trade 
and  navigation,  as  if  the  same  were  in  a  state  of  blockade. 
The  Milan  Decree  followed  the  promulgation  of  the  Or- 
ders in  Council,  by  which  Buonaparte  declared  every 
vessel  denationalised  which  shall  have  submitted  to  a 
search  by  a  British  ship,  and  every  vessel  a  good  prize 
which  shall  sail  to  or  from  Great  Britain,  or  any  of  its 
colonies,  or  countries,  occupied  by  British  troops. 


EPITOME  OF  AMERICAN  HISTORY. 


381 


The  embargo  having  failed  in  its  intended  effect  on 
Prance  and  England,  Congress  on  the  1st  of  March, 
interdicted,  by  law,  all  trade  and  intercourse  with  these 
nations. 

1809.  According  to  the  form  prescribed  by  the  Con- 
stitution, Mr.  Madison  was  inducted  into  the  office  of 
President  of  the  United  States  during  this  year. 

The  restrictions  of  commerce  pressed  heavily  on  the 
merchants  of  America.  The  war  between  England  and 
Prance  was  carried  on  with  the  most  bitter  rancour.  The 
rights  of  the  United  States  were  trampled  upon  by  the 
belligerents,  and  its  citizens  seemed  determined  to  suffer 
no  further  aggressions.  They  had  nearly  adopted  the 
resolution  of  an  appeal  to  arms  with  the  offending  parties. 

1810.  The  t£  Rambouillet  Decree"  was  issued  by  Bo- 
naparte on  the  23d  of  March,  which  forbade  French 
vessels  entering  the  ports  of  the  United  States.  All 
American  vessels  and  cargoes  arriving  in  any  of  the 
ports  of  France,  or  of  countries  occupied  by  French 
troops,  were  ordered  to  be  seized  and  condemned.  Con- 
gress passed  an  act,  on  the  1st  of  March,  excluding 
British  and  French  armed  vessels  from  the  waters  of  the 
United  States;  but  providing,  that  if  either  of  the  above 
nations  should  modify  its  edicts  before  the  3d  of  March, 
1811,  so  that  they  should  cease  to  violate  neutral  com- 
merce, of  which  fact  the  President  was  to  give  notice  by 
proclamation,  and  the  other  nation  should  not,  within 
three  months  after,  pursue  a  similar  step,  commercial  in- 
tercourse might  be  renewed,  but  not  with  the  latter.  This 
ultimately  led  to  the  revocation  of  the  Berlin,  Milan,  and 
Rambouillet  decrees,  and  on  the  2d  of  November  the 
President  issued  his  proclamation,  declaring  that  inter- 
course between  the  United  States  and  France  might  be 
renewed. 

1811.  In  the  month  of  May  an  engagement  took 
place  between  the  American  frigate  President,  Captain 
Rogers,  and  the  British  sloop  of  war,  Little  Belt,  Captain 
Bingham.  It  was  satisfactorily  proved  that  Captain 
Bingham  fired  the  first  gun  without  provocation.  The 
Little  Belt  lost  several  men,  and  sustained  much  damage 
in  her  rigging. 

•  The  President  in  his  message  to  Congress  on  the  5th 


882 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


of  November,  alluded  to  the  probability  of  a  war  with 
Great  Britain.  That  nation  rigorously  executed  her 
orders  in  council,  and  no  symptoms  were  visible  of  their 
speedy  relaxation.  11  Great  Britain,"  said  the  President, 
M  has  given  evidence  of  her  inflexibility  in  trampling  on 
rights  which  no  independent  nation  can  relinquish ;  Con- 
gress will  feel  the  duty  of  putting  the  United  States  into 
an  armour  and  an  attitude  demanded  by  the  crisis,  and 
corresponding  with  the  national  spirit  and  expectations. 1 
Agreeable  to  this  resolution,  bills  passed  Congress  pre- 
paratory to  a  state  of  hostilities. 

On  the  7th  of  November  was  fought  the  battle  of 
li  Tippaca?we"  near  a  branch  of  the  Wabash,  between 
an  army  under  General  Harrison,  and  a  large  body  of 
Indians,  in  which,  after  a  severe  action,  the  latter  sus* 
tained  a  defeat. 

1812.  Louisiana  was  admitted  into  the  Union  as  a 
sovereign  State.  War  was  declared  against  Great  Bri- 
tain on  the  4th  of  June. 

General  Hull,  with  an  army  of  two  thousand  five 
hundred  men,  surrendered  his  whole  force  to  General 
Brock,  at  Detroit,  without  a  battle.  He  was  tried  by  a 
court-martial,  and  his  name  was  ordered  to  be  struck 
from  the  rolls  of  the  American  army. 

The  American  frigate  Constitution,  Captain  Hull, 
captured  the  British  frigate  Guerriere,  Captain  Dacres. 
The  Guerriere  sustained  so  much  damage  that  she  was 
set  on  fire  and  burnt,  while  the  Constitution  received  so 
little  injury,  that  she  was  ready  for  action  the  next  day. 
The  loss  of  the  Constitution  was  seven  killed  and  seven 
wounded  :  that  of  the  Guerriere  fifteen  killed,  and  sixty- 
three  wounded. 

•A  detachment  of  one  thousand  men  from  the  American 
army  crossed  the  river  Niagara,  and  attacked  the  British 
on  Queenstown  heights;  they  were  ultimately  repulsed 
by  the  English,  and  obliged  to  surrender.  During  the 
engagement,  the  British  General,  Brock,  was  mortally 
wounded. 

His  Majesty's  brig  Frolic,  of  22  guns,  was  captured^ 
on  the  17th  October,  by  the  American  sloop  of  war, 
Wasp — a  vessel  much  inferior  in  force.  The  English 
fired  as  their  vessel  rose,  so  that  their  shot  was  either 


&PITOME  OF  AMERICAN  HlSfORY. 


thrown  away,  or  touched  only  the  rigging  of  the  Ameri- 
cans :  the  Wasp,  on  the  contrary,  fired  as  she  sunk,  and 
every  time  struck  the  hull  of  her  antagonist.  The  action 
continued  forty-three  minutes.  The  loss  on  board  the 
Frolic  was  thirty  killed,  and  fifty  wounded,  on  board  the 
Wasp  five  were  killed,  and  five  slightly  wounded.  The 
Poictiers,  Captain  Beresford,  of  seventy-four  guns,  cap- 
tured both  vessels  the  next  day. 

On  the  .25th  of  October,  the  United  States  frigate, 
Commodore  Decatur,  of  forty-four  guns,  captured  the 
Macedonian,  of  forty *nine  guns,  and  three  hundred  men, 
off  the  Western  Isles.  The  Macedonian  lost  thirty-six 
killed,  and  seventy-eight  wounded.  On  board  the  United 
States*  seven  only  were  killed,  and  five- wounded. 

An  action  was  fought  off  St.  Salvador,  on  the  29th 
December,  between  the  Constitution,  Commodore  Bain- 
bridge,  and  the  British  frigate  Java,  of  3S  guns,  com- 
manded by  Captain  Lambert.  The  engagement  con- 
tinued nearly  two  hours,  when  the  Java  struck.  Her 
commander  was  mortally  wounded,  sixty  of  her  crew 
were  killed,  and  one  hundred  and  twenty  wounded.  The 
loss  of  the  Constitution  was  nine  killed,  and  twenty-five 
wounded.  Commodore  Bainbridge  finding  his  prize  in- 
capable of  being  brought  in,  burnt  her  on  the  1st  of  Ja* 
nuary. 

1813.  The  commencement  of  this  year  was  marked 
by  a  sanguinary  action  between  a  detachment  of  the 
north-western  army  under  General  Winchester,  of  eight 
hundred  men,  and  a  British  and  Indian  force,  command* 
ed  by  General  Proctor,  amounting  to  one  thousand  five 
hundred  men.  This  affair  took  place  at  the  river  Raisin. 
The  loss  of  the  Americans  was  severe,  and  the  gallant 
few  who  surrendered  were  inhumanly  massacred  by  the 
tomahawks  and  scalping  knives  of  the  Indians.  In  jus- 
tice to  General  Proctor,  this  bloody  act  was  perpetrated 
contrary  to  his  express  stipulations. 

A  sharp  action  occurred  off  the  coast  of  South  Ame- 
rica, between  the  Hornet,  Captain  Lawrence,  and  the 
British  sloop  of  war,  Peacock,  Captain  Peake.  Al- 
though the  engagement  lasted  but  fifteen  minutes,  the 
Peacock  struck  her  flag,  being  then  in  a  sinking  state. 
Notwithstanding  the  utmost  efforts  of  the  Hornet's  crew 


884 


YOUNG  MAN5S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


in  removing  the  vanquished,  nine  British  sailors  went 
down  in  the  prize*  The  killed  and  wounded  on  board 
the  Peacock  were  estimated  at  upwards  of  fifty  :  the 
Hornet  received  but  a  slight  injury. 

Mr.  Madison  entered,  March  4th,  upon  his  second 
term  of  office,  as  President  of  the  United  States. 

On  the  27th  March,  a  successful  attack  was  made  by 
General  Dearborn  upon  York,  the  capital  of  Upper  Ca- 
nada. In  killed,  wounded,  and  prisoners,  the  British 
lost  seven  hundred  and  fifty  men :  the  Americans  about 
three  hundred  in  killed  and  wounded. 

The  British  blockaded  the  Chesapeake  Bay;  and 
their  troops  made  predatory  excursions  to  Havre  de 
Grace,  Georgetown,  &c.  Much  property  was  plundered 
and  destroyed,  and  several  villages  were  burnt. — The 
Americans  captured  Fort  George,  in  Canada.— One 
thousand  British  attacked  Sackett's  Harbour,  and  after 
considerable  loss,  were  compelled  to  retire. 

The  British  frigate  Shannon,  and  the  American  fri- 
gate Chesapeake,  came  to  action  on  the  1st  of  June,  off 
Boston  harbour.  While  in  the  act  of  summoning  his 
boarders,  a  musket  ball  entered  the  body  of  the  gallant 
Captain  Lawrence,  of  the  Chesapeake,  and  he  fell.  Up- 
on being  taken  below,  he  issued  .his  last  memorable 
order,  "  Dortt  give  up  the  ship."  The  British  boarders, 
however,  after  a  desperate  and  bloody  struggle,  succeeded 
m  hoisting  the  British  flag.  Their  loss  was  twenty-three 
killed,  and  fifty  wounded :  the  Chesapeake  sustained  a 
heavy  loss,  having  no  less  than  seventy  killed,  and 
eighty-three  wounded. 

On  the  14th  of  June,  the  Argus  of  eighteen  guns,  was 
captured  by  the  British  sloop  of  war,  Pelican,  of  twenty 
guns.  The  Argus  had  six  killed,  and  seventeen  wound- 
ed :  the  Pelican  had  but  three  killed,  and  four  wounded. 

In  an  engagement  on  the  5th  of  June  between  the 
British  brig  Boxer,  and  the  Enterprise,  the  former  surren- 
dered, after  the  battle  had  continued  about  half  an  hour. 
Both  commanders  were  killed  during  the  conflict,  and 
were  interred  with  military  honours  at  Portland. 

On  the  10th  of  September,  the  American  fleet  obtained 
a  splendid  and  decisive  victory  over  that  of  the  British, 
on  Lake  Erie.    In  this  contest  the  Americans  had  twen- 


EPITOME  OF  AMERICAN  HISTORY. 


385 


ty -seven  killed,  and  ninety  wounded.  Six  hundred  pri- 
soners were  taken — a  number  superior  to  that  of  the 
Americans  when  they  commenced  the  engagement. 

General  Proctor  destroyed  Maiden  ;  but  on  the  2d  of 
October  the  American  General,  Harrison,  captured  De- 
troit. Colonel  Johnson,  in  this  engagement,  mortally 
wounded  the  celebrated  Indian  Chief,  Tecumseh.  The 
loss  of  the  Americans  in  this  battle  did  not  exceed  fifty ; 
the  British  had  nineteen  regulars  killed,  fifty  wounded 
and  six  hundred  prisoners. 

After  a  series  of  operations,  without  any  decisive  result, 
the  American  army,  commanded  by  General  Wilkinson, 
retired  into  winter  quarters.  Great  expectations  were 
formed  by  all  true  republicans  of  the  successful  issue  of 
this  campaign;  but  they  were  miserably  disappointed. 

1814-  The  American  frigate  Essex,  Commodore  Por 
ter,  was  captured  on  the  28th  of  March,  off  Valparaiso, 
by  a  superior  British  force. 

The  British  brig  Epervier,  after  an  action  of  forty-two 
minutes,  struck  her  flag  to  the  Peacock,  in  the  month  of 
April. 

Desperate  battles  were  fought  at  Chippewa  and 
Bridgewater  in  the  month  of  July.  Fort  Erie  was  also 
taken  from  the  British, 

A  British  fleet  of  between  fifty  and  sixty  sail,  arrived 
in  the  Chesapeake,  about  the  middle  of  August — their 
object  an  attack  on  Washington,  the  capital  of  America 
General  Ross,  at  the  head  of  six  thousand  British  troops, 
succeeded  in  this  enterprise,  but  the  English  inflicted  a 
lasting  disgrace  on  their  arms,  by  the  destruction  of  pub- 
lic buildings,  which  shed  a  lustre  on  the  city,  and  which 
were  justly  regarded  with  pride  by  the  whole  nation 
This  expedition  was  attended  with  a  loss  of  one  thousand 
men  to  the  invaders. 

Baltimore  was  attacked  on  the  12th  of  September,  by 
the  army  under  General  Ross.  The  determined  bravery 
of  the  Americans  induced  the  British  to  retire.  General 
Ross  was  killed  in  this  attempt. 

Lieutenant-General  Drummond  on  the  14th  August, 
attacked  Fort  Erie.    After  an  obstinate  engagement,  he 
was  repulsed,  with  a  loss  of  six  hundred,  in  killed, 
32 


3S6 


YOUNG  MAN'S  EOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


wounded,  and  prisoners.  The  Americans  lost  two  hun- 
dred and  forty-five  in  killed  and  wounded. 

The  British  arm}',  commanded  by  Sir  George  Prevost, 
amounting  to  fourteen  thousand  men,  retreated  from 
Plattsburg,  owing  to  the  judicious  movements  of  the 
American  forces  under  General  Macomb.  Commodoro 
Macdonough  also  captured  the  squadron  of  Commodore 
Downie,  on  Lake  Erie. 

Considerable  dissension  prevailed  in  New  England,  in 
consequence  of  the  war  with  Great  Britain,  to  which  a 
great  portion  of  the  people  in  that  section  were  strongly 
opposed. 

On  the  8th  of  January,  fifteen  thousand  British  troops, 
commanded  by  Sir  Edward  Pakenham,  landed  in  Louis- 
iana. In  the  attack  on  New  Orleans,  £'the  British  de- 
liberately advanced  in  solid  columns,  over  an  even  plain, 
in  front  of  the  American  entrenchments,  the  men  carrying 
beside  their  muskets,  fascines,  and  some  of  them  ladders. 
A  solemn  silence  now  prevailed  throughout  the  American 
lines,  until  the  enemy  approached  within  reach  of  the 
batteries,  which  opened  an  incessant  and  destructive 
cannonade.  The  enemy,  notwithstanding,  continued  to 
advance,  closing  up  their  ranks  as  fast  they  were  opened 
by  the  fire  of  the  Americans.  At  length  they  came 
within  reach  of  the  musketry  and  rifles.  Hundreds  fell 
at  every  discharge,  and  by  columns  were  swept  away, 
In  a  third  but  unavailing  attempt  to  lead  up  their  troops,- 
Generals  Gibbs  and  Kean  were  severely  wounded,  the 
former  mortally.  The  field  of  battle  now  exhibited  a 
scene  of  extended  carnage.  Seven  hundred  brave  sol- 
diers were  sleeping  in  death,  and  one  thousand  four  hun- 
dred were  wounded.  Five  hundred  were  made  prisoners, 
— making  a  loss  to  the  British,  on  this  memorable  day, 
of  near  three  thousand  men.  The  Americans  lost  in  the 
engagement  only  seven  killed,  and  six  wounded.  The 
enemy  now  sullenly  retired,  and  on  the  night  of  the  18th 
evacuated  their  camp,  and  with  great  secrecy  embarked 
on  board  their  shipping." 

On  the  24th  December,  a  treaty  of  peace  between 
Great  Britain  and  America  was  signed  at  Ghent. 

IS  15.  A  treaty  of  peace  with  the  Dey  of  Algiers, 
Was  concluded  at  Algiers  on  the  30th  of  June.    By  this 


EPITOME  OF  AMERICAN  HISTORY. 


3S7 


treaty,  the  United  States  were  exempted  from  paying 
tribute  in  future.  A  British  squadron  captured  the  Ame- 
rican frigate  President,  on  the  15th  of  January.  The 
Americans  made  prizes  of  the  British  ships  Cyane,  Le- 
vant, and  Penguin.  These  were  considered  lawful 
prizes. 

1316.  On  Wednesday,  April  10th,  a  bill  incorpora- 
ting the  lt  Bank  of  the  United  States"  with  a  capital  of 
thirty-five  millions,  received  the  sanction  of  the  President, 
after  a  long  and  animated  debate. 

Mississippi  and  Indiana  became  independent  states, 
and  were  received  into  the  Union  in  the  month  of  De- 
cember. 

1817.  James  Monroe  was  elected  President,  and 
Daniel  D.  Tompkins,  Vice-President  of  the  United 
States. 

1818.  A  state  constitution  having  been  adopted  by 
Illinois,  in  April,  it  was  admitted  as  a  member  of  the 
Union  in  the  December  following. 

The  Seminole  Indians  were  completely  vanquished 
this  year  in  their  contest  with  the  United  States,  by  the 
vigorous  measures  of  General  Jackson. 

1819.  East  and  West  Florida,  with  all  the  islands 
adjacent,  &c.  were  ceded  to  the  United  States  by  the 
Spanish  Government. 

The  government  of  the  territory  of  Arkansas,  was  or- 
ganised by  Act  of  Congress  on  the  2d  of  March. 

Alabama  was  admitted  into  the  Union,  on  an  equal 
footing  with  the  original  states,  on  the  14th  December. 

1820.  Maine  became  a  member  of  the  federal  union 
on  the  30th  of  March. 

1821.  By  an  act  of  Congress,  the  military  peace  es- 
tablishment of  the  Union  was  reduced  to  four  regiments 
of  artillery,  and  seven  regiments  of  infantry. 

Missouri  was  admitted  into  the  federal  union  on  the 
'  10th  of  August. 

1822.  A  territorial  government  was  established  for 
Florida  on  the  31st  of  March. 

1828.  General  Jackson,  the  Hero  of  New  Orleans, 
was  elected  President  of  the  United  States. 

A  succession  of  prosperous  events  has  marked  the  rising 
greatness  of  the  Republic,  up  to  the  present  period,  (1S33) 


388  young  man's  book  of  knowledge. 

the  limits  of  which  are  too  vast  for  the  human  mind  to 
contemplate. 


REFLECTIONS,  &c. 

What  a  mighty  change  has  the  progress  of  civilization 
effected  on  this  vast  continent.  Three  centuries  and  a 
half  have  not  jet  transpired  since  the  existence  of  the 
New  World  became  known  to  Columbus.  Eternal  and 
majestic  forests  then  covered  a  great  portion  of  its  sur 
face — its  noble  rivers  were  only  navigated  by  the  beard- 
less Indian  in  his  frail  canoe,  and  the  Red  Man,  with 
u  untutored  mind"  was  "  monarch  of  all  he  surveyed." 
Now  we  behold  a  glorious  scene.  Cities,  towns*  and  vil- 
lages, with  their  industrious  and  intelligent  inhabitants, 
spread  an  air  of  refinement  and  comfort  around  them. 
Canals,  in  themselves  monuments  of  the  ingenuity  and 
perseverance  of  man,  intersect  different  parts  of  the  coun- 
try, and  facilitate  the  transmission  of  produce.  The 
waste  hunting  ground  is  converted  into  the  fruitful  farm, 
and  the  population  of  foreign  nations  receive  the  super- 
abundance of  the  American  soil,  in  exchange  for  the  re- 
spective products  of  their  different  climates.  The  power 
of  steam,  too,  the  application  of  which  to  various  purposes 
has  been  attended  with  such  surprising  results,  has  con- 
nected the  interests  of  different  states  of  the  Union  by  an 
almost  incredible  rapidity  of  intercourse.  From  a  few 
settlers,  driven  by  persecution  from  their  native  homes,  a 
great  and  powerful  nation  has  arisen,  whose  energies  are 
without  a  parallel — which  at  once  commands  the  envy 
and  admiration  of  Europe,  and  is  an  asylum  for  the  op- 
pressed and  misgoverned  of  all  11  principalities  and 
powers." 

From  whence  have  arisen  these  pleasing  developements 
of  the  faculties  of  man  ?  What  has  given  birth  to  that 
clear  and  brilliant  light  which  enables  every  individual 
to  view  things  through  their  just  and  true  medium? 
Assuredly,  that  principle  implanted  by  the  Almighty  in 
the  bosom  of  every  rational  being — the  natural  desire  and 
the  inalienable  right  of  Freedom.    The  colonists  of  Great 


REFLECTIONS,  &C. 


389 


Britain  were  regarded  as  mere  "  hewers  of  wood  and 
drawers  of  water" — the  bond  servants  of  a  proud  and 
unrelenting  aristocracy — their  king  ruled  them  with  a 
rod  of  iron,  till  oppression  had  filled  its  cup,  the  draught 
of  which  was  too  bitter  for  human  endurance.  Resist- 
ance became  their  duty ;  and  how  inflexibly  that  resist- 
ance was  maintained — with  what  constancy  a  Washing- 
ton conducted  his  band  of  devoted  and  heroic  patriots 
through  a  long  and  perilous  campaign — the  glory  which 
marked  its  termination—- and  the  last  solemn  act  of  that 
great  and  virtuous  chief,  History  may  recount  with  pride 
— they  form  the  brightest  and  most  instructive  pages  in 
her  impartial  volume. 

The  "right  divine"  of  kings  to  sway  over  the  minds 
and  bodies  of  their  subjects  has  been  exploded ;  and  a 
lesson  of  self-government  presented  to  the  world,  which 
must  produce  the  most  salutary  influence.  The  free  in- 
stitutions of  America  have  already  shaken  the  stability  of 
the  thrones  of  Europe.  Men  do  not  now  so  easily  permit 
themselves  to  be  kept  in  leading-strings.  Independence 
of  thought — a  deep  and  critical  examination  into  the  acts 
and  policy  of  governments — and  a  watchful  jealousy  of 
the  exercise  of  power,  are  among  the  important  signs  of 
the  times. 

An  impressive  contrast  to  the  United  States  of  Ame- 
rica is  presented  by  Italy,  Spain,  Portugal,  and  other 
European  dominions.  The  ''Book  of  Knowledge"  is 
there  a  closed  volume — the  people  are  enveloped  in  the 
most  gross  darkness ; — ignorance  and  crime  debase  the 
mind,  and  an  unsparing  tyranny  reigns  triumphant. 

It  is  to  the  education  which  is  so  wisely  and  liberally 
provided  for  the  rising  generation,  that  America  owes  so 
proud  a  superiority — that  independence  of  spirit — that 
detestation  of  oppression — that  ardent  love  of  liberty, 
which  ennobles  man,  and  imprints  on  his  heart,  11  all 

MEN  ARE  BORN  FREE  AND  EQUAL." 

"  Knowledge  is  Power."  In  diffusing  instruction, 
then,  throughout  the  United  States  by  Public  Schools, 
and  the  powerful  means  of  an  unshackled  press,  u  men 
know  their  rights,"  and  imbibe  the  spirit  to  defend  them. 
They  become  acquainted  with  the  genius  of  the  constitu- 
tion, and  repel  with  indignation  the  slightest  attempt  on 
32* 


890  YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

their  political  privileges.  Innumerable  publications  are 
dispersed  through  every  section  of  the  Union,  and  upon 
terms  so  remarkably  cheap  as  to  come  within  the  reach 
of  every  man's  means.  From  these  circumstances,  a 
greater  degree  of  general  information  is  possessed  by  the 
people  of  the  United  States,  than  by  the  native  -  of  any 
other  country.  Search  the  world  through,  and  'w  here  is 
there  to  be  found  such  an  active  and  enterprising  class  as 
the  merchants  of  America,  u  The  star-spangled  banner53 
may  be  seen  floating,  wherever  a  profitable  commerce 
prevails.  Converse  with  the  American  Farmer,  you  will 
find  him  contented  and  happy  in  his  station,  hospitable  in 
his  manners,  of  sound  sense,  sturdy  in  his  own  indepen- 
dence, and  blessing  the  land  that  enables  him  li  to  feel  as 
a  man."  Question  the  mechanic  on  inventions,  he  will 
display  a  clearness  of  judgment,  and  an  insight  into 
causes  at  once  creditable  and  ingenious.  There  is  no 
where  to  be  seen  that  clownish  stupidity  which  is  so  re- 
markable in  the  agricultural  districts  of  England ;  where 
many  of  the  rustics  appear  to  have  no  more  animation 
than  the  clods  upon  which  they  tread.  How  happens 
this  in  a  country  which  is  continually  boasting  of  its  su- 
perior intelligence  ?  Does  it  arise  from  the  lack  of  public 
schools,  from  long-continued  labour,  or  from  a  slavish 
fear  of  haughty  squires,  parsons,  and  men  11  clothed  in  a 
little  brief  authority,"  ? 

The  strongest  bulwark— the  surest  passport  to  the 
prosperity  of  the  United  States  will  be  found  in  providing 
sound  and  useful  instruction  to  the  people.  "  The  Bible 
and  the  institutions  of  Christianity  are  with  us,  and  are 
presenting  to  us  all  the  blessings  which  religion  can  im- 
part. Thus  circumstanced,  what  should  prevent  our 
country  from  advancing  to  that  eminence  of  national 
happiness,  beyond  which  national  happiness  cannot  ex- 
tend. Manufactures  may  here  arise — busy  commerce, 
inland  and  foreign,  distribute  our  surplus  produce,  aug- 
ment our  capital,  give  energy  to  industry,  improvement 
to  roads,  patronage  to  arts  and  sciences,  vigour  to  schools, 
and  universality  to  the  institutions  of  religion  ;  reconciling 
civil  liberty  with  efficient  government ;  extended  popula- 
tion with  concentrated  action  j  and  unparalleled  wealth 
with  sobriety  and  morality." 


THE  ABORIGINES. 


Who  can  imagine  the  countless  thousands  that  will 
undoubtedly  people  these  hnmense  regions,  at  some  future 
period,  without  being  lost  in  amazement  ?  When  we 
consider  the  progressive  increase  of  the  population,  and 
its  daily  augmentation  by  the  continual  tide  of  emigra 
tion  from  Europe,  it  is  not  perhaps  improbable,  that  in 
less  than  three  centuries  New  York  may  vie  with  Lon- 
don in  population,  and  even  exceed  it  in  the  extent  of  its 
commerce.  Before  the  expiration  of  that  period,  the 
Great  Far  West  may  number  its  busy  millions  of  ac- 
countable beings;  wealthy  cities  rich  in  architectural 
beauties,  the  seats  of  learning  and  refinement ;  a  degree 
of  knowledge  may  be  attained,  and  discoveries  made,  but 
u  little  dreamt  of  in  our  philosophy."  The  resources  of 
the  human  mind  are  almost  inexhaustible;  when  once 
an  impulse  is  given  to  its  powers,  it  surmounts  every  bar- 
rier, and  pursuing  an  onward  course,  "  worketh  marvel- 
lous things," 

Long  may  the  sun  of  prosperity  shed  its  enlivening 
beams  on  these  free,  united,  and  happy  states.  Long 
may  the  pure  and  sacred  flame  of  Liberty  shed  its  radi- 
ance in  her  holy  temple.  Disdaining  all  debasing  and 
dishonourable  pursuits,  may  the  present  and  succeeding 
generations  of  American  Young  Men,  shed  lustre  on 
the  national  character  by  a  dignified  integrity,  both  with 
regard  to  morals  and  religion.  This  alone  will  preserve 
the  Union — prevent  intestine  divisions — banish  all  selfish 
and  ambitious  motives — strengthen  the  bonds  of  fellow- 
ship— exhibit  the  sinfulness  of  war,  and  promote  the  last- 
ing reign  of  Peace  and  Righteousness. 


THE  ABORIGINES. 

"  The  employments  of  the  men  were  principally  hunt- 
ing, fishing,  and  war.  The  women  dressed  the  food; 
look  charge  of  the  domestic  concerns ;  tilled  their  narrow 
and  scanty  fields  ;  and  performed  almost  all  the  drudgery 
connected  with  their  household  affairs. 

"The  amusements  of  the  men  were  principally  leaping, 
shooting  at  marks,  dancing,  gaming,  and  hunting:,  in  all 


392 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


of  which  they  made  the  most  violent  exertions.  Their 
dances  were  usually  performed  round  a  large  fire.  In 
their  war  dances  they  sung,  or  recited  the  feats  which 
they  or  their  ancestors  had  achieved ;  represented  the 
manner  in  which  they  were  performed,  and  wrought 
themselves  up  to  an  inexpressible  degree  of  martial  en- 
thusiasm. The  females  occasionally  joined  in  some  of 
these  sports,  but  had  none  peculiar  to  themselves. 

Their  dress  was  various.  In  summer,  they  wore  little 
besides  a  covering  about  the  waist;  but  in  winter,  they 
clothed  themselves  in  the  skins  of  wild  beasts.  They 
were  exceedingly  fond  of  ornaments.  On  days  of  show 
and  festivity,  their  sachems  wore  mantles  of  deer  skin, 
embroidered  with  white  beads,  or  copper,  or  they  were 
painted  with  various  devices.  tJideousness  was  the  ob- 
ject aimed  at  in  painting  themselves.  A  chain  of  fish- 
bones about  the  neck,  or  the  skin  of  a  wildcat,  was  a  sign 
of  royalty. 

"  For  habitations  the  Indians  had  weekwams,  or  wig- 
wams as  pronounced  by  the  English.  These  originally 
consisted  of  a  strong  pole  erected  in  the  centre,  around 
which,  at  the  distance  of  ten  or  twelve  feet,  other  poles 
were  driven  obliquely  into  the  ground,  and  fastened  to 
the  centre  pole  at  the  top.  Their  coverings  were  of  mats, 
or  barks  of  trees,  so  well  adjusted  as  to  render  them  dry 
and  comfortable. 

"  Their  domestic  utensils  extended  not  beyond  a  hatchet 
of  stone,  a  few  shells  and  sharp  stones,  which  they  used 
for  knives:  stone  mortars  for  pounding  corn,  and  some 
mats  and  skins  upon  which  they  slept.  They  sat,  and 
ate,  and  lodged  on  the  ground.  With  shells  and  stones 
they  scalped  their  enemies,  dressed  their  game,  cut  their 
hair,  &c.  They  made  nets  of  thread,  twisted  from  the 
bark  of  Indian  hemp,  or  of  the  sinews  of  the  moose  and 
deer.    For  fish-hooks  they  used  bones  which  were  bent. 

"Their  food  was  of  the  coarsest  and  simplest  kind — the 
flesh,  and  even  the  entrails  of  all  kinds  of  wild  beasts  and 
birds  ;  and  in  their  proper  season,  green  corn,  beans,  peas, 
&c.  &c.  which  they  cultivated,  and  other  fruits  which 
the  country  spontaneously  produced.  Flesh  and  fish 
they  roasted  on  a  stick,  or  broiled  on  the  fire.  In  some 
instances  they  boiled  their  meat  and  corn  by  putting  hot 


THE  ABORIGINES. 


393 


stones  in  water.  Corn  they  parched,  especially  in  the 
winter,  and  upon  this  they  lived  in  the  absence  of  other 
food. 

<4  The  money  of  the  Indians  called  wampum,  consisted  of 
small  beads  wrought  from  shells  and  strung  on  belts,  and 
in  chains.  The  wampum  of  the  New  England  Indians 
was  black,  blue,  and  white.  That  of  the  Six  Nations 
was  of  a  purple  colour.  Six  of  the  white  beads,  and 
three  of  the  black,  or  blue,  became  of  the  value  of  a  penny. 
A  belt  of  wampum  was  given  as  a  token  of  friendship,  or 
as  a  seal  or  confirmation  of  a  treaty. 

41  There  was  little  among  them  that  could  be  called 
society.  Except  when  roused  by  some  strong  excitement, 
the  men  were  generally  indolent,  taciturn,  and  unsocial. 
The  women  were  too  degraded  and  oppressed  to  think  of 
much  besides  their  tools.  Removing  too,  as  the  seasons 
changed,  or  as  the  game  grew  scarce,  or  as  danger  from 
a  stronger  tribe  threatened,  there  was  little  opportunity 
for  forming  those  local  attachments,  and  those  social  ties, 
which  spring  from  a  long  residence  in  a  particular  spot. 

"  Their  language,  also,  though  energetic,  was  too  barren 
to  serve  the  purposes  of  familiar  conversation.  In  order 
to  be  understood  and  felt,  it  required  the  aid  of  strong  and 
animated  gesticulation,  which  could  take  place  only 
when  great  occasions  excited  them.  It  seems,  therefore, 
that  they  drew  no  considerable  part  of  their  enjoyments 
from  intercourse  with  one  another.  Female  beauty  had 
little  power  over  the  men,  and  all  other  pleasures  gave 
way  to  the  strong  impulses  of  public  festivity,  or  burning 
captives,  or  seeking  murderous  revenga,  or  the  chase,  or 
war,  or  glory. 

"  War  was  the  favourite  employment  of  the  savages  of 
North  America.  It  roused  them  from  the  lethargy  into 
which  they  fell,  when  they  ceased  from  the  chase,  and 
furnished  them  an  opportunitj'  to  distinguish  themselves 
— to  achieve  deeds  of  glory,  and  taste  the  sweets  of  re- 
venge. Their  weapons  were  bows  and  arrows,  headed 
with  flint  or  other  hard  stones,  which  they  discharged 
with  great  precision  and  force.  The  southern  Indians 
used  targets  made  of  bark ;  the  Mohawks  clothed  them- 
selves with  skins,  as  a  defence  against  the  arrows  of 
their  enemies. 


394 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


11  When  they  fought  in  the  open  field,  they  rushed  to 
the  attack  with  incredible  fury,  and,  at  the  same  time 
uttered  their  appalling  war  whoop.  Those  whom  thef 
had  taken  captive  they  often  tortured  with  every  variety 
of  cruelty,  and  to  their  dying  agonies  added  every  spe- 
cies of  insult  If  peace  was  concluded  on,  the  chiefs  of 
the  hostile  tribes  ratified  the  treaty  by  smoking  in  suc- 
cession the  same  pipe,  called  the  calumet,  or  pipe  of 
peace. 

"The  government  of  the  Indians  in  general  was  an 
absolute  monarchy;  though  it  differed  in  different  tribes* 
The  will  of  the  sachem  was  law.  In  matters  of  moment, 
he  consulted,  however,  his  counsellors;  but  his  decisions 
were  final.  War  and  peace  among  some  tribes,  seem  to 
have  been  determined  on  in  a  council  of  old  men,  distin- 
guished by  their  exploits.  When  in  council  they  spoke 
at  pleasure,  and  always  listened  to  the  speaker  with  pro- 
found Mnd  respectful  silence. 

"  When  propositions  for  war  or  peace  were  made,  or 
treaties  proposed  to  them,  by  the  colonial  governors,  they 
met  the  ambassadors  in  council,  and  at  the  end  of  each 
paragraph,  or  proposition,  the  principal  sachem  delivered 
a  short  stick  to  one  of  his  council,  intimating  that  it  was 
his  peculiar  duty  to  remember  that  paragragh.  This 
was  repeated  till  every  proposal  was  finished  ;  they  then 
retired  to  deliberate  among  themselves.  After  their  deli- 
berations were  ended,  the  sachem,  or  some  counsellors  to 
whom  he  had  delegated  this  office,  replied  to  every  para- 
graph in  its  turn,  with  an  exactness  scarcely  exceeded  in 
the  written  correspondence  of  civilised  powers.  Each 
man  actually  remembered  wThat  was  committed  to  him, 
and  with  his  assistance  the  person  who  replied  remem- 
bered the  whole." 

u  The  religious  notions  of  the  natives  consisted  of  tra- 
ditions, mingled  with  many  superstitions.  Like  the  an- 
cient Greeks,  Romans,  Persians,  Hindoos,  &c.  they  be- 
lieved in  the  existence  of  two  gods,  the  one  good,  who 
was  the  superior,  and  whom  they  styled  the  Great,  or 
Good  Spirit;  the  other  evil.  They  worshipped  both; 
and  of  both  formed  images  of  stone,  to  which  they  paid 
religious  homage.  Besides  these,  they  worshipped  va- 
rious other  deities — such  as  fire,  water,  thunder — any 


THE  ABORIGINES. 


395 


thing  which  they  conceived  to  be  superior  to  themselves, 
and  capable  of  doing-  them  injury.  The  manner  of  wor- 
ship was  to  sing  and  dance  round  large  fires.  Besides 
dancing,  they  offered  prayers,  and  sometimes  sweet 
scented  powder.  In  Virginia,  the  Indians  offered  blood, 
deer's  suet,  and  tobacco.  Of  the  creation  and  the  deluge 
they  had  distinct  traditions. 

44  Marriage  among  them  was  generally  a  temporary 
contract.  The  men  chose  their  wives  agreeable  to  fancy, 
and  put  them  away  at  pleasure.  Marriage  was  cele- 
brated, however,  with  some  ceremony,  and  in  many  in- 
stances was  observed  with  fidelity ;  not  unfrequently  it 
was  as  lasting  as  life.  Polygamy  was  common  among 
them. 

44  Their  treatment  of  females  was  cruel  and  oppressive. 
They  were  considered  by  the  men  as  slaves,  and  treated 
as  such.  Those  forms  of  decorum  between  the  sexes, 
which  lay  the  foundation  for  the  respect  and  gallant 
courtesy,  with  which  women  are  treated  in  civilised  so- 
ciety, were  unknown  among  them.  Of  course,  females 
were  not  only  required  to  perform  severe  labour,  but  often 
felt  the  full  weight  of  the  passion  and  caprices  of  the 
men. 

u  Their  skill  in  medicine  was  confined  to  a  few  simple 
prescriptions  and  operations.  Both  the  cold  and  warm 
bath  were  often  applied,  and  a  considerable  number  of 
plants  were  used  with  success.  For  some  diseases  they 
knew  no  remedy,  in  which  case  thej^  resorted  to  their 
Powow,  or  priest,  who  undertook  the  removal  of  the  dis- 
ease by  means  of  sorcery 

u  It  may  be  remarked,  however,  that  the  diseases  to 
which  the  Indians  were  liable,  were  few,  compared  with 
those  which  prevail  in  civilized  society. 

<4  The  riles  of  burial  among  the  Indians,  varied  but 
little  throughout  the  continent.  They  generally  dug 
holes  in  the  ground  with  sharpened  stakes.  In  the  bot- 
tom of  the  grave  were  laid  sticks,  upon  which  the  corpse, 
wrapped  in  skins  and  mats,  was  deposited.  The  arms, 
utensils,  paints,  and  ornaments  of  the  deceased  were 
buried  with  him,  and  a  mound  of  earth  raised  over  his 
grave.  Among  some  tribes  in  New-England,  and  among 
the  Five  Nations,  the  dead  were  buried  in  a  sitting  pos* 


S96 


YOUNG  MAN'S  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


ture,  with  their  faces  towards  the  east.  During  the 
burial  they  uttered  the  most  lamentable  cries,  and  con- 
tinued their  moaning  for  several  days. 

4<  The  origin  of  the  Indians,  inhabiting  the  country, 
on  the  arrival  of  the  English  colonists,  is  involved  in 
much  obscurity,  and  several  different  answers  have  been 
given  by  learned  men  to  the  inquiry,  whence  did  they 
come  to  America  ?  The  opinion  best  supported  is,  that 
thejr  originated  in  Asia,  and  that  at  some  former  period, 
not  now  to  be  ascertained,  they  emigrated  from  that 
country  to  America,  over  which,  in  succeeding  years, 
their  descendants  spread.  This  opinion  is  rendered  the 
more  probable  by  the  fact,  that  the  figure,  complexion, 
dress,  manners,  customs,  &c.  of  the  nations  of  both  conti- 
nents are  strikingly  similar.  That  they  might  have 
emigrated  from  the  eastern  continent  is  evident,  since  the 
distance  between  the  East  Cape  of  Asia,  and  Cape  Prince 
of  Wales  in  America,  across  the  streights  of  Behring,  is 
only  about  forty  miles,  a  much  shorter  distance  than  sa- 
vages frequently  sail  in  their  canoes.  Besides  this,  the 
streight  is  sometimes  frozen  over." 


THE  END. 


